Strike the Death Bells: 622 to 644
by Lightning at Noon
Summary: (SYOT CLOSED) The Capital was eagerly awaiting its twenty-eighth Victor. But the people in the districts were preparing to send off victims 622 through 644 and the one tribute lucky enough to survive. Because for every Victor, there are 23 dead children. And those 23 all have a different story but the same ending - horrible death. And they never know when it'll strike.
1. Prologue

**I've always wanted to try out a SYOT, so here it goes.**

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><p>Head Gamemaker Irving Redstone smiles as he walks down the Hall of Victors. There are twenty-seven faces staring down at him: the twenty-seven past winners of the annual Hunger Games.<p>

'My games will determine the twenty-eighth face on the wall,' he thinks to himself. He smiles as he sees last year's Victor, beautiful Sapphire Cyrus from District 1. He hopes his victor will be as beautiful as she is. Then he sees Antony Vesuvius of District 2 and thinks it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have a strong, confident young man as a Victor.

As he walks past Jasper Cutter of District 7, he remembers what an exciting year that was. The years an outlying district wins are always full of suspense. He smiles as he sees Hunter Raymond of District 12, the Victor of the Twelfth Games and the first he was old enough to watch. She was a killer with her knives and made such a excellent show.

He had been working around the clock on an arena unlike any the Capital had seen before to put on a show like that. He was confident he would shock even the President with his work. He was just giddy to find out who would be competing and more exciting, who would be crowned the Victor.

'My Victor will definitely earn his or her spot here,' he tells himself , imagining all the praise he will get in the Capital following his Games. Oh, he can't wait.

But all Head Gamemaker Redstone sees are the Victors and the glory. He doesn't see that behind each Victor he admires are 23 dead children. No one in the Capital sees it.

So while the Capital is preparing for victor number twenty-eight, the districts are preparing for victims number 622 through 644.

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><p>Tributes of the 28th Annual Hunger Games<p>

District One:

male - Glitz Goldstone ( Anthonykeith )

female- Emerald Clinton ( TheGirlWhoCan'tLetGo )

District Two:

male - Ekon Dodson ( SavGrasso )

female- Aurora Chase ( Lost Daughter of Gallifrey )

District Three:

male - Bryce Stone ( Anthonykeith )

female- Selita Cyrus ( xSecretAngelx )

District Four:

male - Phoenix Volney ( PenMagic )

female- Coral Tanner ( Cheerxoxo )

District Five:

male - Eli York ( ToniMarks )

female- Eboni Mullins ( SavGrasso )

District Six:

male - Blaise Road ( xBrightxStarx )

female- Madison "Maddie" Rogers ( PenMagic )

District Seven:

male - Corander "Andy" Miller ( RaeofSunshyn )

female- Heather Brimstone ( Cheerxoxo )

District Eight:

male - Zane Harrison ( xSecretAngelx )

female- Ella Carter (Icebreeze of ThunderClan )

District Nine:

male - Hayseed Knox ( Danny Barefoot )

female- Barley Rogan ( Danny Barefoot )

District Ten:

male - Ray Ashton ( VanessaandEllieTheVamps )

female- Katalina "Kat" Pollak ( VanessaandEllieTheVamps )

District Eleven:

male - Tobias Prior ( Bookworm3616 )

female- Alyss Morgan ( Bookworm3616 )

District Twelve:

male -Owen Raymond ( ToniMarks )

female- Brook Keller ( artist-in-the-tardis )

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><p>Form for the Tributes<p>

Please send in a PM. Can, at most, submit two.

(after you send in the form, the character belongs to me. Please don't be mad at any changes to you character – made for the purpose of the storyline – or anything that happens to your character - as they will most likely die)

Name:

District:

Gender:

Age:

Appearance:

Personality:

Any Skills that might help them:

History:

Reaped/Volunteered (remember, only the Careers usually volunteer):

Token:

Any interesting facts you'd like me (the author) to know:

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><p><strong>I will still be dedicating most of my time to <em>Seen It All<em>, but I would like something a little easier to write to help with any writer's block I may encounter.**

**Please send in tributes!**


	2. District 4 Reaping

**SYOT is still open!**

**Whenever I have both the male and female tributes, I will post their District Reaping. Eventually, I'll put them in District order. At this point, District 11 will probably be next.**

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><p><strong>District 4 Reaping<strong>

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><p><strong>Phoenix Volney – District 4 Male<strong>

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><p>I hear the bell that signals the rising of the tide. Its long, pealing sound wakes me.<p>

"Shit," I say to myself as I try to jump out of bed. My feet get tangled in the sheets, and I end up falling over the side and slamming in to the floor.

"Nix," calls my mom up to me, "are you alright?"

I curse again as I get off the floor, tugging on a pair of jeans.

"Yeah mom, I'm cool. I'll be down as soon as I get dressed," I say as I call down. But really, falling out the of the bed on the day of the Reaping; now, that's bad luck. Not that I necessarily believe in bad luck, but it's still pretty shitty.

I tug on a shirt, one of my clean ones because it is Reaping Day after all. I look at the pull-up bar hanging in my doorway, and I consider just going down to eat breakfast but that isn't what got me where I am. I reach up to the bar and take a deep breath and start.

"One, two, three," I whisper to myself. Soon I can't whisper anymore as all my breath is going to my muscles. I reach about fifteen, and that's when my arms really start to burn. I get a couple more in before I fall to the ground.

I shake the lactic acid out of my arms as I walk down the stairs. I do a quick double take as I see my dad sitting there. He's usually out on the dock or at sea at this time, even if it's Reaping Day.

"I have to see you off," he says, obviously understanding my look. And there's my dad – simple and straightforward. He got us out of the poorer side of the district into our current, beautiful two-story house between the docks and the town square.

A silence descends on the table as I think we all think about the last time we all ate breakfast together: six years ago on the morning of Aleah's Reaping. Well not so much a reaping but her volunteering.

My mom looks slightly pale as she scopes scrambled eggs onto my plate. She's probably seeing Aleah screaming under the Victor, some girl from District 1, who slowly cut her up. I see it at night sometimes but not in the same way as my mom. I no longer see Aleah's face but the power of the District 1 girl. And man, do I see blood.

"Oh Nix," asks my mom as she finally sits down to eat with me and Dad, "are you really going to volunteer?"

I chew my eggs especially slowly; we've had this conversation several times already.

"Yes Mom, I volunteering," I tell her – again - "Mags says I have the best shot of winning out of anyone she's trained. I've got to."

"But Nix, can't you wait another year. I can't -"

"Lula," cuts in my dad, " Phoenix is old enough to make this decision as was Aleah. If Mags said he's ready, he's ready. You know she'll do anything to get him out after six years ago."

I see my mom brush a tear from her eye and for a second I reconsider my idea to volunteer. But I'm not just volunteering because Mags thinks I can win it. I'm volunteering because there's a darker side of me that is fascinated by blood, a part that loves the way it beads on people's skin, a part that loves how blood leaving the body causes so much pain. It's been a part of me since Aleah's death, and I'm about to let it loose.

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><p><strong>Coral Tanner – District 4 Female<strong>

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><p>"I've got to get going," says my aunt. "The prep team will want me looking presentable. Lord knows I'm just getting older to make their job harder. Make sure you're ready for the Reaping soon. No prep team for you, but you still have to look nice."<p>

"I will, Auntie Mags," I tell her. She kisses me on the forehead and leaves me in the house by myself.

I've lived here as long as I can remember. I had apparently been born to some girl who had been reaped shortly after my first birthday. Whenever I tell people Mags isn't my real aunt, they get all sad and apologize about my mother. I used to feel terrible because I didn't miss her; I mean, I never really knew her. Mags says that I got my height – or lack of height – and green eyes from her.

So having a mother that died in the Games, I naturally didn't tell Mags I was going to volunteer. And eighteen year old, Mystic somebody-or-other, was chosen to volunteer, but I talked her out of it. This was my year, and I was going to be the youngest Victor yet at just over fifteen. I was going to make a name for myself.

I grab a granola bar from the counter and sneak up to Mags' room. I've never actually been in her room before but I know she keeps her old dresses from her tribute days up here. All the dresses I have make me look small and breakable, and I can't look breakable for the Reaping. I need something that makes me look older and possible seductive.

There's no one in the house but me, but I make sure I glide silently across the floor and open the door without a sound. One more silent footfall, and I'm in Mags' room. And I'm slightly disappointed it looks like a normal room; I was totally expecting something a lot cooler or more mysterious.

She has a huge walk-in closet, and it takes me a while to find her Game's dresses. A lot are too …. too Capital for a district Reaping. One has too many sequins, and one is a little too shear even for my taste. Towards the back I see one that was probably from her Victory Tour or something else because I don't think they had Victory Tours back then.

As I slip on the dress, I breathe a sigh of relief as I realize it fits. The blue shimmery material is a little longer down my leg than it should be, but this is District 4 not the Capital. It's just low enough for my chest that I don't look slutty, but I also don't look like a little girl. So really, it's perfect.

Next, I go in Mags' bathroom and put on some of her makeup. She is always telling me about the excess and overindulgence of the Capital and how wrong their lifestyle is, but she can't seem to get over their love of makeup – she's always wearing at least a little whenever we go to market. Like before, a little eyeliner and blush is enough to make me look older than fifteen.

I twirl in front of her full length mirror, and I'm so excited. This will be the day I shock everyone. Little tiny Coral, that daughter of the poor tribute and Mags' baby orphan, is going to volunteer. Oh, they'll never see it coming.

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><p><strong>Phoenix Volney – District 4 Male<strong>

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><p>I meet up with Josah at the corner of my street. Our fathers work together now, but the two of us have been training together since we could first hold a trident.<p>

"Hey Nix," he calls out, throwing me into a hug – a manly hug, mind you – and slamming me on the back. "Today's the big day, ain't it, buddy?"

I know Josah well enough to tell that he's nervous for me. He's been training to and knows that I'm the best, but there is still the other tributes and the Gamemaker's mutts that no amount of training can prepare you for. But I also know the best way to relax him is to pretend nothing is wrong.

"Yeah man," I tell him as we start walking towards the square. "You want an autograph from the amazing Phoenix Volney, Victor of the 28th Hunger Games," I joke, booming out the last part in my fake Capital accent. A couple younger kids around us start to laugh, and I even see Josah crack a smile.

"Where's the brother?" I ask.

"He's with Mother. He's twelve now, and he wanted Mother to help him."

"You know I'll be volunteering," I tell him, slapping him on the back. "Baby Jeremiah will be safe for another year."

He's obviously torn between loosing his brother or his best friend but a couple more jokes and he's laughing like a normal day.

His shoulders get less tense, and we banter lightly back and forth for a little longer. But as we get closer to the square, even our banter peters out. There's always a somber mood in the square; we might be a Career district, but at least one kid is going to die, and you can't really ignore that.

"May the odds be ever in you favor," calls out Mr. Marshall from his shop window.

"Thank you, sir," I call out to him. "I certainly hope they are."

A couple other people wish me good luck and favorable odds as me and Josah approach where we have to stand. They know I'm going to volunteer; I'm sure they're wishing Mystic good luck too. They want a Victor. It's been seven years since Arch won, and they're all waiting for the next one.

I see a couple of the younger boys looking at me, and I think I recognize them from the training center. I give them a wave and the smirk I've been practicing for moments like this. One waves back and tries to copy my smile, and I'm sure he's now going to throw himself into training so he can volunteer one day like me. Maybe I would've felt I made him throw his life away a couple days ago but not anymore. As the Peacekeeper pricks my finger, I slowly feel myself slipping away and becoming darker.

I think Josah sees the look in my eyes because he just nods to me and goes to join the eighteen year olds at the front. I go to join my age group, and the kids around me give me space – they know I'm volunteering.

One boy nudges me with his arm. "This whole thing is a little nerve-wracking, isn't it?" he asks me. I stare him down, and I notice he's one of the boys they ship here from the other villages down the coast. He doesn't know who I am, but he slowly backs away. Maybe a month ago I would've hated scaring him but now it brings me a sick sense of pride.

'I'm ready,' I think, 'let this Reaping begin.'

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><p><strong>Coral Tanner – District 4 Female<strong>

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><p>The girls around me in the square are a nervous, fidgety bunch. The one to my left is so worried that she'll get reaped, and Mystic will forget to volunteer. The girl on my right is worried that her boyfriend will get reaped, and Phoenix won't volunteer. She doesn't have to worry about not having a female volunteer, and I've seen Phoenix this morning – he definitely looks the part.<p>

It takes the Mayor's speech to finally get them to shut up. He reads the Treaty of Treason and shows the video; most of the adults in the crowd go white at the video – they still remember the Dark Days and many saw firsthand what's in the video. Mags told me about seeing the Battle of the Docks and the bombs falling on her village. But to me, it's just a boring video that I have to wait through.

But then our escort walks onto the stage. It's a man this year – at least I think it's a man. Even when he talks, I can't possibly be sure. Maybe if I I could actually see over the older kids in front of me, I could tell. I can see him (or her) walk over the the giant bowl holding thousands of slips of paper. I'm practically shaking – with excitement – while the girls beside me are shaking with fear.

"Our female tribute is Shelby Rider," he – and now I'm sure it's a he – announces.

The crowd is silent as a thirteen year old walks to the stage. I'm sure people are wondering why Mystic hasn't volunteered yet, and Shelby looks like she is about to cry. One of the girls next to me sinks to the ground, and I'd bet that's her sister.

Shelby reaches the first step to the platform when I decide I'll have enough attention on me. And really, little Shelby is probably scarred for the rest of her life.

"I volunteer," I shout and step around the crying girl next to me. "I volunteer as tribute."

As I walk down the isle, I can feel everyone's eyes on me. I try to put a little sway in my hips and a swagger in my walk. I want to look fearless, but the almost-tribute makes me look foolish as she nearly knocks me over as she runs and gives me a hug.

"Thank you, thank you," she cries to me, wrapping herself around my body.

I regain my balance, and I lean down – though not much - and give her a small hug. "You're welcome," I whisper in her ear, "but I'm not doing this to save you. This is for me."

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><p><strong>Phoenix Volney – District 4 Male<strong>

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><p>The Peacekeeper's have to pull Shelby Rider off the girl who volunteered. I'm filled with relief at the look of the volunteer; she's no Mystic and looks like I could easily step on her. There's one tribute I shouldn't have to worry about.<p>

"And what is your name, darling?" asks the escort.

"Coral Tanner," she announces, her voice stronger than I would've expected from someone her size. Maybe I will have to watch out for her. Or maybe I'll have to kill her myself at the beginning to avoid that situation.

"You're Mags' little girl, aren't you?" he asks.

I can see anger flash in the girl's eyes, and I can tell she doesn't like the question.

Wait, she's Mags' little orphan.

"Yes, she's my aunt," she replies, her voice showing no emotion. "She's taught me everything I know."

And now I'm angry. If Mags is mentoring this year, she'll give all her attention to this little runt. It doesn't matter if my sister died six years ago because basically her child is going to die this year. Maybe I shouldn't volunteer this year and wait for next year. My mom would love it, and I wouldn't have to go against Mags' darling prodigy.

"Well, well, well," says the Escort, "I hope our male tribute is just as exciting. Let's find out who he is now."

I'm not going to volunteer. I'll wait till next year when my chances are better. Mags' will understand; she wouldn't want me killing her child.

The Escort sticks his hand in the bowl and picks a slip from the bottom.

"Our male tribute for this year is Jeremiah Break," he announces.

Josah's brother slowly leaves the twelve year old sections and looks directly at me. Josah would kill me if I didn't volunteer. There would be no one to take my place and Jeremiah would go into the Games.

Just as he walks past me, I let my anger at Coral and Mystic flow. Phoenix Volney who help his father carry heavy crates and walked with Josah and Jeremiah to school was no more; this was Phoenix Volney who could kill as easily as breathe.

"I volunteer," I shout and push my way out of my section.

I looked dangerous, and I knew it. I walked shoulder's back up to the stage and stared down at the audience as I turned around.

"And who are you, young man," asks the Escort, holding the microphone up to my face.

"Phoenix Volney," I tell him.

The little Capital man scoots a little away from me, likely a little nervous because I'm a good half foot taller than him.

"Here are our tributes from District 4 for the 28th Annual Hunger Games: Coral Tanner and Phoenix Volney!"

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><p><strong>Coral Tanner – District 4 Female<strong>

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><p>We're forced to shake hands, and I think Phoenix is trying to break all my fingers. If looks could kill, I'm sure I would be dead because the look in his eyes is nothing but pure hatred. He's a good foot taller than me, and I'm sure I'm going to need to make sure to stay away from him after the Career alliance breaks.<p>

Then we're shoved into the Justice Building for goodbyes. I sit down on the plush couch and wait for Mags to come in furious.

Surprisingly it's Titian, the mayor's son. I've talked to him before, but we're not really friends; I don't have too many of those.

"Hey Coral," he says, standing a little awkwardly in the doorway.

I realize he's waiting for me to invite him in, so I do and scotch over on the couch to make room for him.

"My dad keeps all the tokens of the tributes who don't make it," he tells me, looking at his hands. That's when I realize they're clashed shut, and he's holding something. "This was your mother's token, and I thought you might want it now."

He silently hands me a necklace and slips out of the room quickly like he's afraid I'll blow up on him. Whatever.

I hold the necklace up, and I see it's a small shell on a long silver chain. It's pretty, really. It didn't bring my mother any luck, but it might bring me some, so I slip it over my head.

Just as I fix my blonde hair that got caught under the chain, Mags walks in. And she doesn't look furious but afraid.

"Why did you volunteer?" she demands, sitting beside me. "Mystic was going to, but she said you talked her out of it. You're too young, Coral. No one under sixteen has ever won it. I've already lost to many people I care about," she says, putting her head in her hands. I think she's crying.

"Auntie," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. "I need to prove myself. I can't be your little orphan girl forever. And you can help me. I can win, I know I can."

"I'm not mentoring this year," she says between sobs. "Arch and Peixe are. I've already watched too many of my friends die. I can't watch you too."

It's literally so hard not to cry. "You won't have to watch me die," I tell her, "I'll be coming home, and we'll have houses side by side."

"You already have a Victor's house," she tells me, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking into my eyes. "You have my house, why isn't that enough?"

I look over her shoulders – I can't bare to look in her eyes. "I need something that I've earned myself. Everything I do has been in your shadow, and I need to get out of it."

She just shakes her head and cries. By the time the Peacekeepers come to collect her, she's still crying.

"I still love you, Auntie," I tell her as she leave the room. "And I will be coming back home. I swear on it."

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><p><strong>Phoenix Volney – District 4 Male<strong>

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><p>I sit in the room, alone. I told Josah not to say goodbye because I'd be back. The idea of these goodbyes makes everything seem so final, and I wasn't final.<p>

I has asked my parents not to come either, but I knew they would anyway. They had lost Aleah, and they refused to let me go before the last possible second they had to.

"You can do it, son," Dad tells me when the Peacekeepers let them in. He's standing stiffly in front of me, practically holding Mom up. "Don't let Mags' little girl stop you. When the time comes for you to split with the Career pack, let someone else pick her off if she's still alive. There's no honor in killing your partner."

I nod, but I'm not going to the Games for honor. I'm going for blood.

"Don't be a monster," says Mom. I get up from my couch and hug both my mom and dad. "I want my baby boy back," she cries, "not some Capital mutt."

I take a deep breathe and pat her on the back. I'll be coming back, but I won't be the baby boy she knows; I'll be the twisted killer inside of me that is fascinated by blood. But I'll still be me, so I'm not necessarily lying when I promise her.

"Make the district proud," says my dad. He pulls me into one last hug before he leaves the room with Mom clinging on him.

Oh, I will. I will.

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><p><strong>To Cheerxoxo: I'm sorry, but I had to change a lot of things about Coral. She couldn't really be sweet and innoncent and be a Career tribute, so I tried to show her independence and confidence. And the 28th Hunger Games would be too early for District 4 to have two Victors who could have a child together. So I tried to get as close to that with Mags being her adopted aunt. I keep the same token but switched how she got it.<strong>

**To everyone else: I really hope you enjoyed it. And if you like either of the characters, make sure to review. Their popularity along with their skills will play a large role in their survival. After all the Reapings, I'll have a poll on who everyone wants to win.**

**Remember SYOT is still open, and I need many more tributes!**


	3. District 9 Reaping

**SYOT is still open as of 2/22/14!**

**District 1 is next, and hopefully District 2 will be filled by then, and I'll be able to go in order.**

**And I wasn't expecting this chapter to get so long but it did! I'm falling in love with all these tributes, and I don't know how I'm going to be able to kill any of them. I'll probably be crying at my laptop.**

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><p><strong>District 9 Reaping<strong>

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><p><strong>Hayseed Knox – District 9 Male<strong>

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><p>Today's the one day a year I get to sleep in, but Rye seems to want to wake me up anyway.<p>

"Hayseed," he says, nudging me awake. "I can't sleep. I'm so nervous about the Reaping. I'll die if they pick me. I can't be picked."

"Ugh," says my older brother, Agro, "will you two shut up? I'm trying to sleep over here."

I punch him lightly in the shoulder. "Have a heart," I tell him, "it's Rye's first Reaping, and he's nervous. You woke up with me when it was my first Reaping, remember."

Agro rolls over and slowly sits up. "Alright my little bros, let's have a good old fashion heart-to-heart before the sun is up. Might be our last time together in this bed."

Rye literally looks like he's going to cry.

"Agro!" I scold him. "Why would you ever say that?"

He just shrugs."It might be true," he says, "you never know."

But I have a feeling the three of us will be having this same conversation next year but with Agro joking at our misfortune and bragging about all nineteen birthdays he'd had. There are enough kids in District 9 that we all had small odds, but still, any odds at all is still bad.

Rye pulls the covers up his chin and pulls the two of us closer on the mattress we share. "This can't be our last night together. I can't be reaped. The pretty girls will cut me up, and I'll never see you guys again. I can't be taken away."

He obviously thinking of last year's Victor, some beautiful terror from District 1. There's sure to be another one like her this year; there always is from District 1.

"The only beautiful girls who will be around you will be the ones from District 9 when you're older," says Argo, giving Rye a wink that is supposed to make him laugh but only makes him more nervous.

"But what if I never make it to nineteen?" he asks. "What if I get picked this year or in the next seven years? I'll never grow up!"

"Relax," I tell him, bringing him closer to my side. "I've made it through four Reapings already, and Agro has made it through six. We've got ten Reapings between the two of us."

"Yeah," says Agro, obviously getting the message I'm trying to convey to Rye. "If the Capital wanted a Knox brother, they've had their shot ten times. They don't want us."

"But still," whines Rye, "my name – and your names – are in the bowl. There's still a chance."

"Your name's only in the bowl twice," Agro tells him. "You just have tessera for yourself. I've got my name in their 28 times, and Hayseed is in there 20 times. Our neighbors have five kids; imagine how much tessera they've taken. Your odds are so small, they're in your favor. You don't need to worry."

"But what if they pick me anyway," he says, doing his best not to start crying. "Every year there's some twelve year old who get reaped. What if this year it's me?"

"Then we'll beat up the Peacekeepers who are trying to take you away, and we'll run past all the fields into the great beyond," says Agro. I wince a little at the slight jab towards me.

A couple years ago Agro had been caught stealing, and I had unknowingly turned him with some comment I made after work. He was beaten in the town square, and his leg had never fully healed. Agro wouldn't be running anytime soon. If for some reason he was reaped, he'd never make it past the bloodbath, and he knows it.

And I'm sure Rye knows we couldn't run away either, but I think pretending we can is better than nothing, and I'm not about to ruin any kind of comfort we can give him.

"So how about we get our extra hour of sleep?" suggests Agro, laying back down.

"You guys promise I won't get reaped," asked Rye, snuggling down beside Agro.

I let him pull me down next to him. "I promise, little brother," I tell him. "I promise."

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><p><strong>Barley Rogan – District 9 Female<strong>

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><p>"Barley," shouts my oldest brother, "you'd better get down here this instant! I've seen that candle burning, so I know you're up."<p>

Quickly, I toss the book Miss Greenly let me borrow under my bed. No one in my family likes me reading. 'What use have farmers for books,?' they always tell me, 'when all we've got to know is in our fields?'

And I'm to be a farmer like my parents and their parents before them. The Rogan's family have all been farmers since before the Dark Days and probably since the sun first started rising in the east. They don't get that I don't want to be a farmer; I want to be a teacher. Even Daddy who tells me he loves me doesn't get it. I'd be the best teacher ever. I'd read kids stories, and I wouldn't give them too much homework so they'd still be able to do their chores. They'd call me Miss Rogan, and they'd all love me and love school.

"Barley!" he shouts again. "Quit your day dreamin'. Do ye want breakfast or not?"

Darn it, I must have zoned out again. I quickly run my fingers through my hair and take the steps two at a time. I'm almost downstairs when I find myself falling. I brace myself for impact but a pair of strong arms scoops me up.

"I seem to have caught myself a wee little girlie," says my daddy, picking me up in my arms. "What shall I do with her? Tickle her?"

He blows lightly on the slice of my stomach that's been exposed by my shirt sliding up. I try to keep a straight face, but it's so hard.

"No, no," I shout between the giggles that escape. "Put me down, put me down. I'm not your little girl anymore."

Daddy puts me down – in my chair at the table. He ruffles my hair that I had just unruffled, and kisses me on the head.

"You'll always be my little girlie," he tells me, moving to sit at the head of the table.

"But Daddy," I tell him, "I'm almost fourteen, and I'm taller than Wheaton who's the tallest boy in my class."

"You're still shorter than me," says Reven, my youngest brother who's sixteen.

"And me," adds Maizer.

My oldest brother just scowls and leaves the table to check on our breakfast. He's not tall at all, and no one quite knows why. It's probably why he's such a big jerk – and the fact that since Mommy died, he's had to do the "womanly" tasks instead of me at Daddy's command.

He comes back with a bowl of oatmeal for each of us and basically throws mine at me.

"Harver," scolds Daddy, "what have I told you about being careful with the dishes?"

Harver is practically seething, but he can't stand up to Daddy. "To be very careful with them," he growls at Daddy.

"That's right," says Daddy, either not noticing his tone or just ignoring it. If I had to guess, and I do, I'd say the first.

"Now everyone join hands for Grace," he announces. He reaches and joins hands with me, and I do the same with Reven. We all bow our heads and close our eyes and wait for Daddy to begin.

"Blessed Father," he starts, "I thank you for this meal we're about to enjoy. Let the Reaping spare my children as you chose to spare Isaac. Let us all be able to meet again here tomorrow to offer our never ending thanks to your kindness and forgiveness. Amen."

"Amen," I repeat as do my brothers. Usually the prayer in the calming voice of Daddy calms my nerves, but instead, they begin to go haywire. I forgot today was the Reaping.

* * *

><p><strong>Hayseed Knox – District 9 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>There's a honking outside, and I quickly grab three slices of toast and smear them with a thin layer of marmalade. I shove both Agro and Rye a slice and jam mine in my mouth as the three of us run out the door.<p>

"We'll get a ride to town later," calls my mother behind us.

"Good luck, boys," shouts my father. The doors slams closed then and if they said anything else, we didn't hear them.

"Ready for the Reaping, boys," says Mr. Cane who owns the only pick-up truck in our little cluster of houses. He's got a sixteen year old daughter, and he drives me and my brothers and the four neighbors of Reaping age.

"As ready as we'll ever be," I tell him.

"Well, I've yet to come back with less kids than I took," he tells us. "So hope on in the back, and we'll get going."

I toss Rye up in the bed, and the oldest neighbor boy helps him as he stumbles a little. I climb up and put a hand down for Agro to pull himself up. It's a pretty high step and a little to big for his bad leg to handle.

As soon as Agro up, Mr. Cane starts up the truck, and we're rolling towards town. Meryl Cane is in the front with her father, so it's us seven boys in the back. The truck's making a racket, and none of us really feel the need to talk.

The youngest neighbor boy is Rye's age, and he's pale white and shaking. One of his brothers puts an arm around him, and I instinctively do the same to Rye. I feel Agro's arm hit mine, and I give a weak smile as I realize we just did the same thing.

I see Meryl look back at us, and I can't help but thinking of Eve. Her father collects our harvest, so he owns his own truck. I'd bet Eve is at the square already, and I'm quite nervous to see her – more nervous than I am for the Reaping actually.

Me and Eve have been dating for the last couple years, and I know both our parents are expecting us to get married when we turn nineteen. But she's changed the last couple times I've seen her, and I don't like it. She's more pristine and ladylike now, and I liked the Eve who would climb up our silos to be closer to the stars and go swimming in the small creek with barely any clothes. I liked her wild and natural, but she's not anymore. I've got to tell her this, but it'll break her heart.

I watch the fields that speed by and think about how we used to run in them. She'd have dried stalks sticking of her hair, and she wouldn't let me pull them out until I distracted her with kisses.

Those were real kisses, but they aren't anymore, and I can't keep faking them. I'd tell her after the Reaping and maybe still being alive would override whatever hatred she'd have for me.

Soon the wheat fields are gone, and Mr. Crane slows the truck down as we reach the place that acts as our central town. There are people milling about, and you can see children covered with dust who had to walk the several miles into town today.

"Out you go, kidos," he shouts to us in the back. "I'll be expecting all of you back here an hour after the Reaping is finished. Celebrate being alive and enjoy your time in town."

"We will," says the oldest neighbor boy, " and thanks for the ride again, Mr. Crane."

"Thanks for the ride," we all repeat as we jump out the back. Meryl gives her father a quick kiss on the cheek, and she jumps out of the truck and is soon lost in the crowd. I look around for Eve, but I can't see her let alone anyone else I know.

"Let's get Rye to the Reaping area," I suggest to Agro, and he nods in response.

Together we push through the crowds until we're in front of the Peacekeepers. Agro pushes Rye forward, but he refuses to take a step closer. I'm pretty sure I can see the Peacekeeper rolling their eyes under that white helmet.

"Well, little bro," says Agro, "just follow what I do. Hayseed will be right behind you."

Agro marches up to the Peacekeeper – who could be the same one who crippled him for all we know – and sticks out his finger from them to collect blood.

"Agro Knox," he says, and the Peacekeeper motions him forward. He goes just behind them and waits.

"Go," I whisper to Rye, "it doesn't hurt anymore than getting a splinter."

"Next," shouts the Peacekeeper, obviously getting a little impatient.

"Go on, Rye," I say, pushing him forward. I'm a little proud how he doesn't wince when they take his blood and his voice doesn't shake when he says his name.

"Next," shouts the Peacekeeper again, and I let him take my blood.

"Hayseed Knox," I tell him and get motioned forward. I go join Agro where he's now standing with Rye. I scan the area once more for Eve, but I still don't see her.

"Agro's going to be in the front," I tell Rye, "and I'll be somewhere in the middle with the sixteen year olds. You're going to be in the back. No one's going to be able to see you back there, and you'll be safe. When they dismiss us, stay here, and we'll come and get you. Okay?"

Rye nods quickly and throws himself in my arms. Agro wraps his arms around the two of us and for a second, everything in the world is beautiful. But too soon, Agro pulls away. He ruffles Rye's hair, and then walks to join the eighteen year olds. I give Rye a kiss on the forehead and leave him too. I just hope he follows what I said, so I don't have to go looking for him afterward.

* * *

><p><strong>Barley Rogan – District 9 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>My brothers are all on the other side of the square, and I try to find a friendly face among the girls. I crane my head, but I don't see anyone.<p>

"Barley!" I hear someone shout. Looking around, I finally see Cilia standing in the thirteen year old section. I quickly jog over to her and give her a small hug.

"How are you doing?" I ask when we break apart. Cilia lives in town, and she helps me with my schoolwork cause I miss so many days working on the farm. As a result, we've kinda became best friends.

"Oh wonderfully," says Cilia, "I love waiting to see if this is finally my year to die. I'm so excited."

I give her a little shove. "That's not even funny to joke about right now. Two people from our District are really going to be sent to their deaths. And it might be us!"

She gives me her wicked smile, and I'm afraid what she's going to say next. I must visibly wince because she laughs.

All the kids around us give the two of us worried stares, and I shove Cilia for bringing all that attention to us.

"I'll try to keep my comments more quiet," she says, still laughing a little. "I forgot I was with the serious Rogan-who-doesn't-like-farming."

"Oh, shut it," I tell her.

And so does the Escort lady who is taping the microphone and demanding attention.

"Welcome, welcome," she says in her comical accident.

"I can't wait to see which one of you gets to die," whispers Cilia in my ear, perfectly mimicking the Capital accident. I laugh despite myself, so I punch her in the side again.

The Escort is now saying something about the video, and it starts playing.

"I hope you all enjoy this video we've been playing for the last twenty-eight years. We at the Capital are too lazy to make a new one," whispers Cilia, and I can't help but laugh again. Cilia can't help but be funny. A couple of the girls around us tell us to be quiet; not because they want to hear the video but because they're afraid of the Peacekeepers.

And somehow, Cilia actually stays quiet – well, as quiet as Cilia can be – through the rest of the video and the Mayor's speech. When the Escort retakes the stage, Cilia mimickes her walk. She flicks her arms at her side, fake falls over, and flashes me the funniest horrified face I've ever seen.

I'm not even nervous as she approaches the girl's Reaping bowl; I'm trying not to laugh. As she puts her hand in the bowl, Cilia whispers that she hopes her nail polish is dry, and a couple more laughs escape me.

"Will Barley Rogan please come to the stage?" says the Escort, and I'm still laughing.

I see the color drain from Cilia's face and the girls around me slowly step away. I stop laughing.

"Barley Rogan," repeats the Escort, "you are our female tribute for District 9. Can I please see your face?"

The blood then drains from my face. That's my name. The Escort called me. I force myself to move to the aisle.

Step. I shouldn't have been laughing. Step. I was going to die. Step. I would never grow up. Step. I would never get to be a teacher. Step. I would never know how my book ended.

* * *

><p><strong>Hayseed Knox – District 9 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>It's not Eve; she's safe for another year.<p>

But I feel guilty as the girl Barley Rogan finally appears from the thirteen year old section. She's tall for her age and quite skinny, and her face turns pale so quickly I think she's going to pass out. She makes it up on the stage, but she's not going to make it past the bloodbath. She's just a year older than Rye.

"Well aren't you a beautiful young lady," says the Escort, and the girl doesn't say anything. It looks likes she's crying, and I just want the Escort to leave her alone. She's already in a terrible position and drawing anymore attention to her will just make it worse.

"Now it's time to select our brave male tribute to accompany young Barley."

As she sticks her hand into the boy's bowl, and I'm just praying it's not us or the neighbors. Please don't be Rye.

"Hayseed Knox," she calls. And it's not Rye, it's me. "Will Hayseed Knox please come up here?"

The boys slowly part as I make my way towards the stage. I've watched previous Hunger Games, and this is important. I've got to make my steps even and keep my head up; I'm strong.

And then I hear Rye screaming my name behind me. He runs out of the twelve year old section and runs into me. I bend down and give him a hug.

"You promised," he screams, beating me on the back. "You promised, you liar. You're nothing but a lair."

His words hurt, but I'm sure he doesn't realize what he's saying. I see Peacekeepers coming, so I need to get him off me.

I pull him off me and look him in the eyes. "I wasn't lying," I tell him. "We'll all be together again, but it'll just take a little longer. Listen to everything Agro, and Mother, and Father say. Now go back," I say, pushing him away from me and turning back towards the stage.

When I mount the stage and face the crowd again, Rye's still sitting the the center aisle, and it looks like the Peacekeepers will let him sit there.

"Is that your brother?" asks the Escort, probably thinking of all the Capital people glued to their TVs at such a sad, public goodbye.

"Yes," I tell her and refuse to say anything else.

"Do I have any volunteers?" she asks as she is required to do. I find Agro in the front, and he refuses to meet my eye. Not that I expected him to take my place but just maybe he would. Out of the three Knox brothers, I do have the best odds of winning.

"Well then," says the Escort like she was actually expecting someone to volunteer. "Here are your District 9 tributes for the 28th Annual Hunger Games, Barley Rogan and Hayseed Knox."

She pushes us together to shake hands, and I realize Barley had been crying. I feel protective over her already like she could be my younger sister. I'll help her as long as I can, but it'll always be me over her. I have to get back to Rye and Agro and Mother and Father.

* * *

><p><strong>Barley Rogan – District 9 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>I'm marched into the Justice Building and led to a small room off the main hallway. There's a large couch and a painting on the wall but otherwise it's pretty plain. This was the last time 26 girls from District 9 saw their families; I can't stop the tears that come. We've only ever had one Victor, and I know I'm not going to be the second.<p>

I shouldn't have been laughing at Cilia. The Capital probably saw that I wasn't afraid as I should be, and somehow quickly rigged the Reaping.

So when Cilia is let into the room by two Peacekeepers, I'm so mad at her.

"Why were you making me laugh?" I yell at her as soon as the Peacekeepers leave. "Now the Capital is deciding to punish me, and it's all your fault."

Cilia, who always knows what to say, doesn't have anything. "I – we – um," she stutters. Finally she manages to spit out, "I just hate being so afraid, and I didn't want you to be. Please don't be mad at me. This might be the last time I see you."

And she is so unlike her normal self that I can't help but forgive her. Just the thought of not seeing her again is heartbreaking.

"I'm so sorry," I tell her, running into her arms. "I know it's not your fault; I'm just, I don't know. I can't handle this. I love you so much. You're my best friend ever."

I didn't realize I started crying again, but I feel tears rolling down my cheeks. She's crying too, and we're both a mess.

"You're the best friend anyone could ask for," she tells me. "I'll name my first daughter after you and tell her what an amazing person you were."

I just nod and start crying even more as I realize my best friend doesn't even expect me to come home. I'm going to die.

The two of us are still holding each other crying when the Peacekeepers come in.

"Time's up," they announce in that monotone voice they all seem to have.

Cilia slowly pulls away. "I'll always remember you," she says. I get one last hug, and the Peacekeepers escort her away.

And as soon as she's gone, Daddy walks in with Harver, Reven, and Maizer. He instantly scoops me up and kisses my forehead.

"No need to cry, girlie," he tells me, setting me down on the couch. "Ye can get back home to us. Remember, you're not a little girlie no more but a big one."

"No, Daddy," I sob into his chest, "I'm going to die, and this is the last time you're going to see me."

I feel the couch move beside me, and one of my brothers wraps his arm around me.

"You're not going to die," says Reven. "You've gone on all those adventures with them strange book characters. And you're so smart. The other tributes will never see ye coming, and that'll be your advantage."

"But I can't kill somebody," I scream at him. For some reason, I want him to except that I'm going to die. They can't ask me to fight."

"You've got to fight," says Maizer – and I guess they can. "Maybe you don't have to kill anyone, but you have to outlast them. You have to be stronger than they are."

But I'm not stronger, so I keep crying. And I think all four of them give up because they just hold me close and let me cry.

When the Peacekeepers come to kick them out, they each give me a kiss on the forehead and a quick hug. Surprisingly, Harver is the last one in the room with me.

He gives me a kiss like the rest, but he also whispers in my ear:

"Be strong, Barley. I couldn't bear to loose my baby sister."

And then he's gone too. But he had more effect on me than anyone else. Maybe because I though he hated me, but he still wants me back.

I wipe my eyes dry on my sleeve. I guess I should at least try a little for my family.

* * *

><p><strong>Hayseed Knox – District 9 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>My family enters the room first. Rye immediately runs towards me and latches right on. I put him on my lap and just let his head rest on my chest.<p>

"I'm sorry I didn't-" starts Agro, and I wave him off. He has no reason to apologize; it was his last Reaping, and he'd have little chance of surviving.

"You can do it," says my mother, sitting beside me. "You're strong from working all day, and I know you're smart. You can come home to us."

I gulp because I do have a chance, but it's going to require 23 dead kids.

"Hayseed already promised me he was coming home," says Rye, choosing that moment to pick his head up. "He _promised_ me."

"I'd guess he'd better keep that promise," says my father solemnly.

"He will," shouts Rye. "I already told you. He promised me he'd come back home."

Agro just looks at me, and he's knows the odds are not in my favor. "He'll do everything he can to keep that promise," Agro tells Rye, but he's looking directly at me. "Won't you, Hayseed?"

"You know I would, Agro," I tell him. Then I turn to speak directly to Rye. "You can't be scared by anything you see on the TV," I tell him. "I might not look like myself, but I'm doing everything so I can return to you."

Rye nods, and I give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

"I'll try to learn as much as I can," I tell my mother. "You have to know I'll try my best."

She gives me an awkward hug with Rye still on my lap. "That's all we'll ever expect from you," she says, and I understand the double meaning of her words.

"I know you will, son," says my father. "Come back for your family. You know we need you."

Mother picks Rye off my lap, so I can stand and give Father a hug. When Agro moves to give me a hug, I have to will myself not to cry though a couple tears still leak through.

When the Peacekeepers come back, my family is done with goodbyes. I know Mother, Father, and Agro don't want to break down in front of Rye, and I'm sure they're awfully close. Mother gives me a final hug, and Father slaps me on the back – I can see tears forming in his eyes as he tries to blink them away. I have to promise Rye one more time that I'll be back home before he's willing to leave me.

I take a deep breath when the door closes. These next couple weeks are going to be terrible.

When the door opens again, Eve runs in. I can see fresh tears running down her face. She looks devastated, and I'm ashamed to admit that I completely forgot about her since my Reaping.

"I can't believe you got Reaped," she says as she wraps her arms around me.

"Me neither," I say, feeling awkward about thinking of breaking up with her earlier. I can't do that now.

"I wanted to marry you," she tells me, kissing me on the nose. "We'd have beautiful kids with your blue eyes and my honey hair. But now," and she can't finish as she starts crying again.

I kiss her, and it's sloppy with her tears. She kisses me back with such desperation, and I run my fingers through her hair. When we pull apart, we're both breathing heavy, but at least she's stopped crying.

"I've promised my family I'd do my best to come home," I tell her, leaning my forehead against hers, "and I'll make you the same promise."

"I'll try to collect money from sponsors," she tells me. "I'll do anything to help you get back to me."

"Will you help Rye?" I ask her. "He'll need someone to hold when things get -"

And I can't seem to finish because I don't what will happen. I don't even know if I'll be alive after the first day.

But Eve just kisses me. "I'll try my best to help him," she says.

"Thank you," I tell her and kiss her again. I press her against me as I try to remember how exactly this moment feels. Right now she's my old Eve, and I love her all over again. I don't want to say it and I hate even thinking it, but this could be the last time I ever see her.

When we break apart, she reaches to unclasp her necklace. She's having trouble, so I spin her around and unclasp it myself.

"I want you to have it," she says, pressing it into my palm. "Bring it as your token and let it remind you of everything you have at home."

I look at the tiny corn doll on the golden chain, and I can't stop the tears that escape the corners of my eyes. It's the doll I made her the first time we meet. I told her I could make the smallest corn dolls in District 9, and she didn't believe me. The one I made that day I gave to her, and I guess she kept it.

I let her put it around my neck, and it's comforting feeling it rest on my chest. I wrap her in a tight hug as more tears fall down my face.

When the Peacekeeper finally comes to pull us apart, my face is red and puffy. She's blows me as kiss as the door closes, and I hold the corn doll tightly in my fist.

I might never see any of them again. But maybe I can, so I have to try.

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think of our District 9 tributes. How do you think Hayseed and Barley are going to do or how do you want them to do? <strong>

**REVIEW and let me know!**


	4. District 1 Reaping

**I also need only one more tribute, a District 6 Male, until I can close my SYOT. The Reapings should be able to go in order now because hopefully I'll get my last tribute soon.**

**I won't be putting them in the correct order until all 12 are posted. I want the links in the story updates to send my followers to the correct chapter.**

* * *

><p><strong>District 1 Reaping<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Emerald Clinton – District 1 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>The alarm clock beside my bed goes off. It's one of the new ones from District 3. Not only does it say it's the wonderfully late time of eight o'clock, but it also says it's sunny and 80 degrees Fahrenheit and it's the most anticipated day of my life; on the bottom of the screen in bright red letters in reads:<p>

"REAPING DAY - 28th HUNGER GAMES".

It's the day I've been waiting for since I was 10. Last year, Sapphire won and this year it'll be Emerald. No two tributes from the same district have ever won two years straight, but that just means I can still be the first. All gemstones have sharp edges, and I can't wait to show everyone mine.

I throw on some ratty jeans and a t-shirt from my hamper. My hair doesn't look too messy from sleeping, so I don't bother to do anything to it. They'll style at the training center for me anyway. District 1 has a reputation for perfection, and there's no way they'd let me be anything but.

I start walking down the stairs when my hand flies to my neck. My necklace. I didn't put on my necklace. I can't believe I was so stupid to almost forget it.

"Great going," I whisper to myself as I go back to my room. "Forget something you put on everyday. What's next, forgetting what side of a sword to stick in somebody."

And I see it as soon as I enter my room. It's just sitting on my dresser. I hastily grab it and throw it around my neck. It's just a simple emerald pendant that apparently belonged to my grandmother on my father's side. Her name was Emerald too, and I would have been named after her no matter what, so I'm pretty lucky my eyes turned out to be green.

I'm about to head downstairs when I look at my window. I could easily jump onto the lower roof and reach the ground from there. I wouldn't have to go through the kitchen and see my parents doing the boring, mundane things they do every morning.

I take a step towards the window, but I stop. This will be the last time my parents see me when I'm actually dressed like myself. I guess I can deal with them one last time.

And when I get downstairs, I kinda regret my decision. My parents are sitting at the kitchen table. My mom's holding her Capital fashion magazine, and it looks like my dad is going over the shop finances – so a normal, boring morning.

I grab an apple off the counter, and I'm about to slip out the door – hopefully unnoticed - when my mother's voice stops me.

"Honey," she says, knowing full well that I hate being called that. "Where are you going? You must know it's Reaping day."

How stupid does my mother think I am? Of course I know it's Reaping day, and she knows I'm going to volunteer. I've literally told her my plan a million times, but she always seems to forget. I should have gone through the window.

"I'm going where I go everyday," I tell her, rolling my eyes. "You know, the training academy. That giant place a couple blocks away where I train for, you know, the Hunger Games."

I see my mother slowly nod, and I wonder how stupid she could possibly be. And then she opens her mouth, and I realize she could be a lot stupider.

"I thought you'd be having-" she starts but my father cuts her off.

"You know she has to get ready," he tells her.

"Oh right," says my mother, probably now remembering all the times I explained how today would go. "Well, have fun. Me and your father will see you later."

"Unfortunately," I mutter under my breath as I leave the house. A house that looks exactly like the 100 others in the neighborhood. A house that holds a blonde haired jewelry merchant and his blonde haired wife and their blonde haired children who go to school and will one day live in a house just like this with their blonde haired spouse and have their own blonde haired children, and the cycle will just continue.

Volunteering is going to save me from this endless cycle. I'll either be dead, or I'll be a Victor. No one makes a Victor marry some jewelry merchant and have children and keep a house. They get their own house and make their own rules. I won't be just another blonde haired wife with too much jewelry; I'll be Emerald Clinton, Victor of the 28th Hunger Games.

* * *

><p><strong>Glitz Goldstone – District 1 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>WHACK!<p>

"Glitz, are really going to do this?"

SLAM!

"There's got to be another way!"

KICK!

"One that doesn't involve the possibility of you not coming home."

PUNCH!

"Come on, Glitz. At least acknowledge me over here."

So I stop beating up the dummy in that training center and look at my boyfriend, Clark, who's sitting on the side of the gym. I put my hands in the position that means 'what the hell do you want from me?'.

"I just want to talk to you," says Clark, getting up and walking towards me. "You've been so distant these last couple weeks, and I'm worried for you."

I have been distant but I'm about to go into a contest where you fight to the death. I think I'm allowed to be a little distant. And I tell that to Clark, but he doesn't laugh like I expected him to.

"I don't want you to volunteer today," he tells me, wrapping his arms around my neck. I'm definitely a little sweaty, but he doesn't move away. "I want you to stay here with me and celebrate never having to attend another Reaping."

"You know I can't do that anymore," I tell him, pulling away and facing the wall – I can't really bare to face him. "The Academy chose me as the volunteer weeks ago. If I backed out, I'd – we'd never be able to live with that dishonor."

"I know, I know," says Clark. "I just can't -," and he doesn't finish, but I know what he's going to say.

"I plan on coming home," I tell him, finally gathering myself enough to face him. "And not in some wooden box. It really doesn't sound too comfortable all cramped up in there."

Clark's practically shaking now. "How can you even think of joking right now?" he asks me, his volume rising, and I'm glad it's just the two of us in here. "You're talking about volunteering for a fight to the death and coming home dead! I'm literally terrified for you!"

"I'm terrified too," I tell him, grabbing him by the shoulders, "but I can't afford to be. Let me make my jokes cause it keeps me from running away from all of this."

"Make all the jokes you want," he tells me, "but I won't be laughing until you come home to me."

He sees the look on my face, and I think he sees another joke about cramped coffins coming because he adds, "Alive."

I give him a quick kiss to comfort him. "I swear I'll be coming home alive. We can get married at the end of my Victory Tour, and no one will stop us."

"You know, I'm going to hold you to that promise," he says.

"And you can count on me keeping it. Nothing is going to stop me from coming home to you," I swear to him.

"Maybe I should remind you of everything you've got to live for," he says, placing his hands on my chest. My heart is pounding like I just finished a workout – which I kinda just did - as his lips slowly capture mine.

I move to deepen the kiss when the Academy bell rings. Quickly I spring away from him.

"Shit," I say, feeling really sheepish. "I've got to go and let the people put makeup and stuff on me. You know, gotta look _District 1 quality_ for the Reaping."

"Then go," says Clark. I can just tell he doesn't want me to go. This will be the last time I really see him. During the Reapings, we'll have to be purely friendly. We'll have the goodbyes, but they're really too short.

So I stall like he wants me to.

"I don't want to face the annoying ladies they choose to do this," I tell him. "Oh, you're Glitz. The gay one?" I spit out, mimicking what the ladies will say in their squeaky high-pitched voices, "then why are you complaining? Shouldn't you like this?"

I finally get a laugh from Clark, and it's lifts some weight off my chest.

"It's like they think just because you like guys, you're exactly like a girl," says Clark, chuckling a little to himself at the absurdity of the whole thing. "I mean, you're still a guy."

"And I'm going to show them," I say determinedly.

"Yes you will," agrees Clark, giving me a peck on the cheek. "Now you'd really better go cause that looks like Emerald in the doorway."

And sure enough in the doorway is my district partner, Emerald, looking like she wants to kill me already for being late.

I give Clark a long kiss and leave him standing in the gym. I don't want to keep Emerald waiting if we're going to be allies for the next couple weeks.

* * *

><p><strong>Emerald Clinton – District 1 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>Glitz scampers over to me after making out with his boyfriend.<p>

"How's my darling district partner?" he asks with an annoying smile on his face.

"Your darling district partner was tired of listening to some random jewelry merchants wives talk about fashion and went to find you," I spit back at him.

"Well," he says, starting to walk towards the prep area, "if I knew we were going to be talking about fashion, I'd have said goodbye to Clark a lot quicker."

I just stare at him, and I can't quite tell if he's kidding or being completely serious. Deciding that he's not worth my time anymore, I just ignore him. If the merchants wives talk to him instead of me, going to find him will have been worth it.

When we finally make it to the room, the ladies are fretting and scrambling all over the place.

"Oh Em," says one of the ladies, "you took so much longer than we expected to find Glitz. And your hair is such a mess. We're going to have to work so quickly. "

"Emerald," I tell her.

"What?" she asks, confused now that she's hearing something other than her own annoying voice.

"My name's Emerald not Em," I tell her, keeping my voice dangerously calm. I stare at her until she gets a little fidgety. I can hear Glitz laughing from somewhere behind me.

"Then Emerald," she says, "why don't you sit down and let us do your hair? It's going to take us a long, long time to get it in any shape for the Reaping."

I let them put me in a chair and put wonderfully smelling but disgusting goop in my hair. All they talk about is what's the latest fashion in the Capital and what Reaping hairstyle is going to get me to win the Games.

I literally have to dig my nails into the arm of the chair to stop myself from digging them into the ladies' throats. My hairstyle isn't going to matter when I'm in the arena. None of their nonsense is going to matter in a few weeks.

There's an exceptionally hard tug at the back of my head, and I turn around and hiss at the lady responsible. She gives a little squeak and accidentally throws the brush across the room. "Oh my," I hear one of the ladies working on Glitz say.

Glitz just looks at me with the most bored-tired-annoyed expression you can imagine. I can't help but make a face back at him. Then I remember that in a couple weeks both of us can't be alive, so I turn my expression into a scowl. He just an ally not a friend.

After my hair, it's makeup. And I vow that when I'm Victor, I'm not going to let anyone put anything that close to my eyes again. Glitz too is having a rough time convincing the ladies that he doesn't need makeup.

"I'm trained to kill people," I hear him shout, "not trained to look pretty."

Some useless chattering from the ladies and a couple more shouts from Glitz.

I get stuff put on my eyes and some powdery substance on my cheeks. 'To make me look young and healthy', they say. I want to tell them that I don't need makeup to do that because I am young and healthy, but that's probably beyond their mental capacity so I keep quiet.

Soon they must decide I look acceptable because they push me into the locker room and hand me a dress. It's emerald green; how original.

I'll hand it to the Academy though, it's a really nice dress. It only goes mid thigh and does a wonderful good of showing off my calves. It has sleeves though it's really more sheer emerald fabric that wraps around my wrist. As I look in the mirror, I realize I'm mesmerizing. The stupid ladies didn't put so much makeup on that I look fake, and the dress isn't so fancy that it looks Capital. I just look like the typical District 1 tribute; beautiful and strong.

* * *

><p><strong>Glitz Goldstone – District 1 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>The Academy sends me off to the square in dark black jeans and a button down blue shirt. Since technically we aren't supposed to be training, I need to look pretty casual. Whatever, I could care less what I'm wearing. It's the little bit of makeup I have on that's bugging me. It's not too noticeable but still.<p>

I'm volunteering because ever since I came out as gay, I've been treated as less than a man. And I'm not. I'm just as capable as every other man and just because I happen to like men too doesn't mean anything. Emerald's pretty good at pretending that me being gay doesn't bug her; I'm pretty sure it's the fact that she's seen me train. And I'm going to show everyone that side of me.

When I get to the Justice Building, there's already a lot of kids milling about. I recognize a couple from the Academy but most I don't.

I see a group of older boys point at me and start laughing. My blood literally starts to boil, and I have to dig my nails into my palm to stop myself from going over there. Any other day I wouldn't hesitate to knock them around a bit – it's actually encouraged at the Academy – but not today. Today I have to be the perfect District 1 gentleman. So I content myself with staring at them until they look away.

I see Clark make his way towards the eighteen year old section, and I'm relieved that he doesn't make any move to come towards me. We'd have to be purely friendly, and I don't think I could manage that when all I want to do is feel his body pressed against mine like it might be the last time.

He smiles at me but nothing more. I nod back, and I'm all the more enraged that the rules of our District won't let us be together. I'm going to show the Capital and force them to change it. This is going to be that day.

I'm practically shaking with excitement and nerves when Maybelline Sephoria, our Escort, comes on stage. She looks absolutely ridiculous in a silver wig and a dress that looks like it's completely made of jewels.

"Hello District 1," she calls and most of the district cheers. I don't cheer. Out of the corner of my eye, I don't see Emerald cheering either; she's just got a twisted smile on her face and an eager look in her eyes.

"The Capital has provided you with a video to watch," she says and the normal Reaping video starts to play.

They show a scene of the battle in District 1, and the eventual defeat of the rebels by the Capital's force of Peacekeepers. We like to pretend we didn't side with the rebels, but we did and watching this video makes most the citizens strive harder to please the Capital to make up for what they consider the biggest mistake District 1 ever made.

We then see the only view we get of the other Districts as the video rolls on. We see the ashes of District 13 and then the video shuts off.

"That was a wonderful video, wasn't it?" gushes Maybelline. The square is uncharacteristically quiet because it's not a wonderful video. But Maybelline ignores our silence and moves on. "Let's get right to picking our tributes, shall we?" And she gets the cheers she was waiting for because we're a Career district .

She walks slowly over to the girls' bowl and picks a slip. She very slowly opens it like the suspense is going to kill us, but really, there is no suspense at all.

"Our female tribute is -," she announces before Emerald interrupts her.

"I volunteer," she shouts, walking up to the stage. And I have to admit, she looks like a competitor. The dress they put in her in makes her look hot – and just because I'm gay doesn't mean I don't notice things like that – and you can see the confidence in her step.

When she turns around on the stage, I see her look directly at me. Her eyes seem to say 'can you do better than that?'. And damn well I'm going to try.

* * *

><p><strong>Emerald Clinton – District 1 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>I see Glitz return my look, and I smile at myself. Let's go.<p>

"What's your name, darling?" asks Maybelline.

"Emerald Clinton," I tell her, trying not to wince at being called darling.

"Oh, like your dress," she says smiling. And she's no better than the entire female half of the district. Yes, my dress and name are the same color; my necklace and eyes are too, you idiot.

She stays there smiling, so I nod and try to copy her stupid smile. It seems to make her happy cause she bounces over the the boys' bowl.

"Let's find out who will be joining lovely Emerald up here on this stage," she says as she reaches into the bowl.

Before she even grabs a slip, Glitz shouts out, "I volunteer."

And I have to admit, he looks good strutting to the stage. The Academy picked the right outfit for him that shows off his muscles. Who cares if he's gay; District 1 has a stunning pair this year. We'll be sure to get sponsors.

I can see a real smile on Maybelline's face, and I'm sure she knows the two of us are promising.

"What's your name, handsome," she asks flirtatiously.

I have to hold back a smile as Glitz winces at her attempts to hit on him. He doesn't make eye contact with her and instead looks past her and looks at me. I bite my tongue to stop from laughing at the pitiful expression he's making.

"Glitz Goldstone," he tells her, now turning to look into the square and into the cameras that are out there somewhere.

"Well, well, well," says Maybelline clapping lightly, " don't we have gorgeous and strong tributes from District 1 this year. Let's wish Emerald Clinton and Glitz Goldstone the best of luck as District 1's tributes for the 28th Hunger Games."

And there's finally some cheering. I shake Glitz's hand and give the square one quick wave – no girly wave but more of a salute– and let the Peacekeeper's take me away.

Both of us are silent until we hear the doors of the Justice Building close behind us. I see Glitz visibly relax, and I'm my shoulders loosen too. Nothing in here will be broadcast so we can relax our acts a little.

"The Capital is just going to love us," says Glitz who moves to walk beside me. "The idea of having two Victors from the same district from consecutive years is going to make us favorites."

I smirk noticing that he never mentioned which one of us would be the Victor. "We're definitely going to have to play that up so one of us can come home," I tell him, not making eye contact and keeping my body facing straight down the hall. And that one is going to be me.

* * *

><p><strong>Glitz Goldstone – District 1 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>"Yes, we will," I agree with Emerald. And this conversation is getting way to serious for me. Thank goodness the Peacekeepers shove us into our respective rooms for goodbyes.<p>

I barely have time to sit down on the couch when both my parents enter the room.

"How's my boy doing?" asks my dad, throwing himself on the couch beside me and wrapping his arm over my shoulders.

"Pretty well, Dad," I tell him.

"Just remember that we love you," says my mom as she sits on my other side. "We're always going to be cheering for you no matter what happens."

I smile because my parents have always been there for me. They've always been at my side. They defended me when I came out as gay and supported my decision to start training for the Games. I need to win to come home to Clark, but I also need to win to show my parents that I'm appreciative of everything they've done for me.

"I'll remember," I tell them.

My dad gives me a pat on the back and gets up. "You know what you're doing, Glitz," he tells me, "and don't forget it. Do what you have to do."

My mom gets up too and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "We know you'll do everything to come home, and we know you can win."

I give them both a hug as they leave the room.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," they wish me as they leave and the doors shuts behind them.

I run my fingers through my hair to get rid of all my nervous energy. I know they expect me to win, and I know I can but it's still not that easy. I'll have to beat Emerald and the four other Careers plus the couple random outer district tributes who always put up a fight.

"Nervous?" asks Clark from the doorway.

And as nervous as I think I am, he looks a million times worse. His face is puffy like he's been crying, and he has to wipe his nose on his sleeve.

I want to desperately make a joke about his condition, but I can't seem to. I just go up to him and wrap my arms around him. Feeling his chest move against mine and hearing his heart beat is soothing. He seems to relax in my arms.

"You-" he starts, but I stop him.

"No words," I tell him, "I just want to feel you against me so I can remember this forever."

He nods and lets me run my fingers across his face and through his hair. I press my lips to his collarbone and his forehead and his poor runny nose and eventually his lips. When our lips part, I cling to him.

I hear the knocking on the door that means the Peacekeepers are telling us to hurry up.

"I love you," I tell him, pressing our foreheads together and letting our breath mingle. "I'll do everything to come home."

"I love you too," he tells me, pulling me into a deep kiss. "And I know you will."

The Peacekeeper opens the door then, and I let Clark slowly detach himself from me. There's an absence where he was as the cold air reaches my body. I take a deep breath, smile, blow him a kiss, and wink. He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes and I know his smiles won't until I'm safe at home again.

And he'll smile again. I'm going to make sure of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Emerald Clinton – District 1 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>My parents stand awkwardly in the doorway. I really won't have cared if they didn't come at all; actually, that would've been so much easier. There is really no nice way to say that I volunteered so I wouldn't become anything like you.<p>

"You don't have to worry," I tell them. "I'm going to win."

My father nods, but my mother just stands there. There's a silence as no one really knows what to say.

"You don't need to say goodbye or anything," I say because I want them to leave. "I'll be fine without it."

This time my mother nods and starts to leave. My father grabs her arms and motions with his head over to me. Oh great, she's going to try to say goodbye like she understands.

My mother puts her arm on my shoulder. "I just want to wish you favorable odds," she says. "We might not have been close, but you're my daughter, and I want you to come home."

I nod, just wishing the Peacekeepers would come and get me out of this awkward situation.

Eventually they come, and I'm not sad to see my parents leave.

Another Peacekeeper comes in after they leave.

"Miss Clinton," he says, "you've got no other visitors. Do you really have no one else to say goodbye to?"

I bristle at his statement. I don't care that he's implying that I have no friends, but how dare he anyway. I snarl at him a little.

"I told them not to come," I lie to him. "I don't see a point in these goodbyes."

"In the outer districts, this is the last time most of the kids will see their family," he tells me, and I don't know why he thinks I care. "My brother was chosen for the 25th Games, and I never saw him again. Just because you're a Career doesn't mean you're guaranteed to win."

I just look at him incredulously.

"Private Mason," I hear another Peacekeeper shout, and I see mine give a little a jump. He salutes who I guess is his commander. "You were supposed to escort Miss Clinton to the train not engage in conversation."

"Sorry sir," he says sounding a little cheeky, "I'll be doing that now."

"Do it silently," commands the other Peacekeeper who proceeds down the hallway.

Private Mason hastily salutes the retreating the officer and smiles at me. "Well Miss Clinton, we probably should get going."

He puts his arm out for me to take, but I ignore it and fall into step beside him. I wasn't some jewelry merchant's wife who let the men led me. I was Emerald Clinton, Career tribute from District 1.

* * *

><p><strong>I had some trouble writing both Emerald and Glitz. They were both given such similar personalities that I had to change them a little so they weren't just the male and female versions of the same character. <strong>

**Also, Private Mason just randomly appeared while I was writing, but don't forget about him. He might have a role to play later on based on something someone gave me on a tribute form.**

**So, thoughts on Emerald and Glitz? You've meet our District 4 Careers already, so how to you think the Career alliance is looking. Will one of them be able to snatch victory? Let me know what you think.**


	5. District 2 Reaping

**I never meant for this to take so long, but as many people who submitted tributes know, my laptop crashed and I lost all my files. I was able to get a new hard drive, but I wasn't able to recover my files meaning I lost the work I had already done on this chapter. School also got really busy as I finished up my Junior year. Hopefully with school out, I should get back to a somewhat normal updating schedule.**

* * *

><p><strong>District 2 Reaping<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Ekon Dodson - District 2 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>I hear my door slowly creak open and tiny footsteps fall upon my floor. I'm awake at the first sound, but I don't show any sign.<p>

"I told you he would still be asleep," I hear Carmen, my youngest sister, say.

"Well," Julia, my third youngest sister, starts, "he's usually already up training at this time. I thought-".

"You thought wrong," says Brenna, my second youngest sister. She must have masterminded this plan with Carmen and somehow gotten Julia to go along with it. I hear a small chuckle, and I realise that they even got Eka, my twin sister, to join them. She must know that their first footsteps awakened me.

"No laughing," scolds Carmen, "you might wake him up."

And I hear Eka laugh even harder. I want to laugh with her, but I keep my breathing slow and my eyes closed. There will be a better time to let them know I'm awake.

"Eka," whispers Brenna in her angry tone, "would you please be quiet? You're going to wake him up."

"Sorry," says Eka, and I just know she's having a blast messing with the three of them. She definitely knows.

All four of them then go quiet, but that just makes it easier for me to hear their footsteps. Carmen and Brenna are getting closer to my bed, but I can't hear Julia or Eka so they've either not moving or using their Academy training.

But then the footsteps stop and it's hard not to tense myself in anticipation of something happening. All of a sudden, I hear a soft grunt and I quickly flip around. Carmen leaps straight into my arms and screams in surprise as I wrap my arms around her.

"You're awake," she screams at me and tries to wriggle out of my grasp.

"And you're stuck," I tell her. She wiggles some more, so I start to tickle her belly and armpits and toes.

"Ekon," she screams between her giggles. "Let me go!"

Next thing I know, Brenna climbs on my back and starts tickling my sides. My sudden jerking tosses her off me, and she lands near the base board on my bed. Julia obviously sees attacking me as a bad idea and jumps next to Brenna and attacks her. For a couple seconds, I stop tickling Carmen, but then both Brenna and Julia knock me over and get on top. Soon, I'm under all three sisters; I could easily throw them all off, but I let them have their fun (and they've really knocked the breath out of me!).

Soon they're tired and they fall on the bed beside me. We're all breathing heavily, and all three girls are failing to stop giggling. Carmen is trying to speak, but it just comes across as more laughter. Brenna can't seem to speak either, but she beckons towards Eka.

Turning towards Eka, I notice she's just leaning against my bed frame giving us a sly smile.

"Sister," I call to her, leaning towards her face and copying her grin, "are you too cool to the join the four of us? We're having a blast!"

"Yeah Eka!" shouts Carmen who is still flushed pink with laughter but finally gathered herself enough to speak. She reaches over me and grabs Eka's sleeve. "Come on," she pleads, tugging.

"Oh I'd love to," she tells Carmen, "but remember we came to wake somebody up. He needs to get ready for the Reaping." She smiles at Carmen but gives me a pointed glare like it was completely my fault for getting the girls all riled up.

"Can't we just lay here for a little while longer?" asks Julia, snuggling deep into my sheets. "It's so comfy here."

I get another look from Eka, so I climb out of bed. "Well, you can stay there if you want," I tell the three girls, "but I'm going to get dressed. Go with Eka and your mother, and they'll do your hair."

The three girls jump out of my bed and run down the hallway to Mom's room.

"Do their hair?" sneers Eka at me. "You know I despise that kinda stuff. Why would you even say that?" She punches me hard in the arm, and I involuntarily wince.

"Watch it sis," I tell her, playing off her anger. "It's my fault no matter what I do, so why don't you go fix my mess. I'm volunteering, and I can't be dealing with your shit."

And then Eka laughs and it totally throws me off. "Lighten up, Ekon," she says, gently nudging me in the shoulder. "Take that confused look off your face; it looks silly." So I changed my surprised expression and narrow my eyes at her instead. "You've got to relax a little," she says with a light, tittering laugh. "I was just messing with you, big brother. "

"Oh very funny," I tell her, pushing her out of my door. "Why don't you show Carmen, Brenna, and Julia your sense of humor? I bet you they'll appreciate it a lot more than I will. " I'm half angry with her at this point and half joking.

Instead of letting herself be pushed into the hallway, Eka grabs my arm and braces her feet. "Don't be mad, Ekon," she begs me. "You only ever let yourself go around us. You need to have some fun before you go all cold on everyone."

Now I'm angry. "Maybe you shouldn't have said what you did then," I tell her. Unbidden, I shove her into the hallway and slam my door which I hear whip against her leg.

"Well fuck you too, Ekon," she shouts to me, and I hear her heavy steps pound down the hallway.

I fall against the door and slowly sink to the ground, my head in my arms. I can't believe I had done that. My sisters could be annoying, especially Eka, but I had never hurt or even wanted to hurt them. I hadn't raised a hand to a girl, even in training, since my father was murdered and my mother was almost raped.

Slowly I draw my head from my hands and started at them. I can still remember how they had been coated in blood. I can remember holding the knife that had been stuck in my father's side and stabbing the man on top of my mother repeatedly until he fell off her. My mother had looked so fragile.

My hands are shaking. I can't believe what I just did. I can't face Eka or the rest of my family. They'll think the worst of me. I just couldn't handle it. No, I have to start shutting it all out and turning cold.

So I get dressed. Standing in front of my mirror, I take a deep breath. "So what I hit Eka,"I tell myself, "I'm a Career and I'm allowed to do that. I'm a Career. I'm a Career. I'm a Victor."

* * *

><p><strong>Aurora Chase - District 2 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>There's a couple girls throwing knives at a target, but none of them seem to see me. Not that I want them to. Jacqen and I discovered this enclave in the ceiling a couple years ago, and it was the perfect place to eavesdrop and just relax.<p>

"I think I'm going to volunteer this year," I hear the tall blonde haired girl, Madeline, tell her friends. "As long as you don't want to, Nessa?" she asks her friend.

Nessa throws a knife that hits the bullseye. "You can totally go ahead. I really don't see the point of volunteering. I mean, I could totally win if I wanted to but I don't want to risk my life for such a hollow reward."

Madeline flips her hair at that comment and from my perch, I can see an annoyed expression on her face. She throws her knife with such anger and force that it buries hilt deep into the target right next to Nessa's.

Emilie, the other trainee in the room, grabs Nessa by the arm and whispers in her ear. They go back and forth in the time it takes Madeline to retrieve her knives from the targets.

With a nudge from Emilie, I hear a grudging apology from Nessa. "Sorry that I sounded like a bitch," she says, "I just meant that I don't want to volunteer this year, and you should totally do it. The victory should be yours."

Madeline gives her a sweet smile, but I know her and know she's still fuming. "Thanks, Nessa," she tells her, giving the girl a hug, "I'll make sure to win."

"Like there was ever any doubt," says Emilie, and the three girls laugh like the little brainless bitches they are.

The girls are putting their knives back on the shelves when I hear a voice beside me:

""What's that wicked smile for?" asks Jacqen, wrapping his arms around me. My heart's beating wildly in my chest, and I want to just kiss him but I don't. He ruffles my hair, so I just turn to smile ruefully at him.

"Madeline thinks she's going to be the volunteer this year," I tell him, pressing myself closer against him. He doesn't move away and keeps his arm around my waist. "But I'm going to."

"That's my little crow," he says removing his arm from around me and punching me in the shoulder. "You go get them."

"You'll be rooting for me?" I ask just because I want to hear him say he will be.

But he acts shocked that I ask. "Of course I will," he says, feigning offense. "You're my best friend in the entire world. How could I not cheer for you?"

Of course, I'm just his best friend. For a couple years, I've wanted there to be more. I know multiple ways to kill someone with my bare hands, but I can't seem to tell him. So I put on a fake smile and nudge him in the side. "Just making sure," I tell him.

"Who else would I cheer for," he says, hitting me back. "I have to cheer for my district, and I'd never cheer for Ekon even though his sister is hot."

And I just can't take it anymore. I can deal with him not liking me as I like him cause I've had so much practice, but I can't stand him talking about other girls. "I should get there early for the Reaping," I tell him, pushing past him. "My parents will want to see me there before everyone else. See you at goodbyes."

Before he can even react, I'm halfway down the wall.

"Wait little crow," he calls down to me. I don't look back up at him. "Aurora, you don't have to leave yet." My feet hit the ground. "Hey, wait for me you silly crow." I'm opening the door of the room. "What the heck, Aurora! I didn't say anything bad." And then I'm out the door, and I can't hear him anymore.

I break into a run and keep running despite the strange looks the younger trainees are giving me. I'm not crying, but it's taking quite a bit of effort on my part. I'm sad and mad and angry at the same time. I want to rip Jacqen's head off and then kiss him really hard. It's a struggle.

When I stop running, I realize I'm already at the center square. There's a couple workers cleaning the street and polishing the lamp posts, but besides that, it's completely empty.

I can't very well go back to the training center and my house is too far a walk to go there and then back here. Looking around, I spot a recycling container some shop owner left out. It's in the shade of the two surrounding buildings and not very noticeable AKA the perfect place to sit, watch, and wait for the time to pass.

* * *

><p><strong>Ekon Dodson - District 2 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>The center square's starting to fill up by the time I get there. Mom better bring the girls here soon if they don't want to get marked as late. I kinda feel bad about leaving them behind, but then again, I don't. I'm no longer Ekon Dosdon, beloved older brother and father figure, but Ekon Dodson, Career tribute.<p>

I let the Peacekeeper take my blood and enter the Reaping area. I see a couple of my friends from the training center wave to me from the front, so I walk over to them.

"You ready dude?" asks Leo, smacking my back really hard.

"What are you doing?" asks Antony, pulling Leo away from me. "You can't be giving our future Victor 5-stars on Reaping day."

"Relax, Antony," I tell him. Their revelry annoys me, but I can deal with it because they don't expect anything but a brutal, Career tribute from me. "If Leo here can injure me with just a smack on the back, I might as well let the little District 12 kids slit my throat."

Antony looks a little put out, and I'm thankful his girlfriend, Cleo, comes and puts her arm around his shoulder and whispers in his ear. He soon captures her lips and kisses her heavily. Me and Leo exchange an awkward look as neither of us really know quite what to do.

When they break apart, Cleo looks towards me with what I could only consider a predatory stare. "You know I'll be cheering for you," she says towards me, giving me a wink that goes right over Leo's and Antony's heads. "Don't tell Maddy, but I think you're going to be our Victor."

And she gives Antony another quick kiss and walks over the girls side. I can see her go to Maddy, the female volunteer this year, and wave - to me.

I've never had a girlfriend and truth be told, I've never really wanted one. Having to be careful around my mother and four sisters is hard enough (and you can't even do that, an annoying voice in the back of my head tells me). I wouldn't be able to kiss her let alone do anything else without thinking about that man attacking my mother.

So I ignore Cleo's wave and hurriedly look away from her to see if I can spot my sisters in the crowd yet. I think I see Eka, but the square's really filling up. There's only a couple random kids still trickling into the Reaping area. It's going to start soon.

And sure enough a couple minutes later, the Mayor walks up to microphone and clears his throat. He's a big burly guy who definitely isn't one for speeches.

"District 2!" he shouts to silence us. "Are you ready to possibly meet this year's Victor?"

And now there's cheering and my heart is pounding. I can feel the ground shaking as everyone in the square cheers. Leo and Antony are pounding their fists in the air. This is my moment.

"Well unfortunately, " he says once the noise dies down a little, "I have to read the Treaty of Treason and Miss Melinda needs to show you a video before we can meet our tributes."

I force myself to loosen up when I notice all my muscles are tensed in anticipation. They need to hurry up because I'm tired of waiting.

* * *

><p><strong>Aurora Chase - District 2 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>I'm in the center of the seventeen year old section, and I couldn't be more uncomfortable. Some girl just bumped into my shoulder, and I want to rip it off. All these bodies so close is making me nervous. The only good thing is my parents probably can't see me. And they're probably looking at the video that's playing anyway.<p>

I was so excited an hour ago thinking of stealing the volunteer position from Madeline, but now I just feel nauseous. Jacqen won't think any less of me for not going through with it and just maybe he'd realize how close he was to losing me. But my parents would never let me come home today. They made it very clear that I the next time I would be home I'd be a Victor or in a wooden coffin.

I'm sure my face goes white as a sheet when the video ends, and Melinda walks up on the stage in her outrageous outfit. A couple girls near me give me worried looks, and I hate them and just want to disappear.

"Let's pick our female tribute," announces Melinda as she sticks her delicate hand in the bowl and draws out a slip. She very slowly opens it, and it's now or never.

"I -" I hear Madeline start.

"I volunteer," I shout louder pushing past the girls who looked at me.

I'm almost at the stage when I feel nails dig into my arm. I look over my shoulder to see Madeline has grabbed me.

"What do you think you're doing, bitch?" she asks me angrily. I think her nails have pierced my skin. "I'm this year's volunteer."

I rip my arm away from her (and yes there is blood, that psycho bitch). "I'm volunteering," I whisper to her. "Maybe you should have been faster."

And then the Peacekeepers have reached us and are pushing me up to the stage. As I look at the crowd, I see Madeline being escorted down the middle aisle and I have to smirk.

Melinda looks a little ruffled and waddles over to me. "It's great to see such a competitive spirit from District 2 this year," she says. "What's you're name?"

"Aurora Chase," I tell her.

Out of the corner of my ear, I hear a shout of "little crow" and I follow the noise until I see Jacqen in the crowd. I can see his smile, and I'm flooded with relief that he's not mad at me. Something possesses me, and I smile and wave at the crowd.

I hear a couple shouts of "Chase" but they all stop when Melinda steps up to the boy's Reaping bowl. She hasn't even pulled the slip above the lip of the bowl when a boy from the eighteen year old section steps up and volunteers. Ekon - the one with the hot twin sister.

I literally hate him so much just for being related to someone who Jacqen likes. The trainers always say killing your district partner is the hardest, but I don't think that will be the case.

He gives me a glare, so I gladly return it. He was probably counting on Madeline being his partner and I'm just a bundle of surprises.

"What's your name?" she asks, giving him a once over.

"Ekon Dodson," he tells her in what I can only call a powerful, emotionless voice.

And then Melinda looks a little confused. She opens the slip in her hand and a little chippery laugh erupts from her.

Both me and Ekon glare at her for being so stupid. She waves her hand in front of her face in a motion to ask us to excuse her. "This slip says Ekon Dodson," she explains, laughing a little more. "It looks like you were reaped and volunteered. How exciting?"

The crowd cheers at that, but I really don't think it matters. Who cares if he got picked twices - he can still only die once.

"Isn't this an exciting year?" cooes Melinda. "We've got our feisty Aurora Chase and Ekon Dodson, the Twice Chosen!"

And with that, Melinda has basically made Ekon more popular than me with that nickname. She forces us to shake hands, so I none too subtly dig my nails into his wrist. To his credit (which is annoying), he doesn't even wince and only squeezes my hand tighter. I can feel my bones rubbing against each other. He releases my hand, and it takes all my willpower to not instinctively shake my hand.

He gives me a subtle smirk and takes the lead in entering the Justice Building. I waste no time and follow immediately behind him.

* * *

><p><strong>Ekon Dodson - District 2 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>A pair of Peacekeepers led to a plain room for Goodbyes. The basically shove me into the room and slam the door behind me so it's just me by myself.<p>

There's a couch but I have too much energy to sit down. This Aurora girl is just an unknown variable that I don't want to deal with. Maddy was easy. She was too much of an airhead to pose much of a threat, and I knew exactly how I'd deal with her. Aurora had a cunning feel about her, and I knew I'd never even trust her even when we were allies.

Antony, Leo, and Cleo were the first to arrive with Cleo clinging to Antony's side.

"It's official now," shouts Leo, rushing towards me and giving me a bear of a hug. "My training partner is going to the Hunger Games!"

I pry myself out of Leo's arms and give a loud laugh. Antony and Cleo laugh too, and for some reason, it feels good to laugh.

"Don't get too cocky on us," says Antony as he pats me on the back. "There are 4 other Careers you've got to worry about. Make sure you're the one making choices. The girls are killers too, and you can't treat them differently."

I tense up as he says that. How dare he mention something like that? He doesn't know what I did to Eka this morning, and the monster I become.

"Get out," I tell all three of them calmly.

"What," says Cleo who bats her eyes at me in confusion. For some reason, I want to hurt her to get her annoying flirting to stop. And I hate that feeling so much. I don't want to feel.

"I said, 'Get out'," I repeat. "I'm done saying goodbye to you guys."

Leo throws his arms up defensively. "What ever man," he says though I can tell he's pretty angry. I don't care. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

He walks quickly out the door and Antony and Cleo follow behind. I can see the two of them whispering, and I'm sure it's about me. It hurts, but at the same time I don't care.

I think a couple minutes pass before Eka enters. When the rest of my family fails to enter behind her, I give her a confused and angry look. I don't want to talk about what happened because it happened.

"I wanted to talk to you alone," she tells me, approaching me as you would approach a dangerous predator.

"Well I don't want to talk to you," I tell her, not meeting her eyes. She'll rip away my protection, and I need to be a Career.

"You don't need to apologize to the rest of the family," she tells me, ignoring what I said. "I told the rest of them I just tripped."

"We're not talking about this," I tell her again, struggling to keep my voice even.

"Carmen, Brenna, and Julia love you and I refuse to have them think any less of you. Just stay Ekon for a couple more minutes for goodbyes."

I don't say anything because I don't know what I can.

My back is to Eka, but I can hear her walk over to the door and open it.

And in comes Carmen running and leaping onto my back.

"Oh Ekon," she says, "they're calling you the Twice Chosen and saying it means you're destined to win. I know you're going to win anyway, but isn't that awesome!"

I can't react. I don't want to hurt her because I can't trust myself.

"I think you knocked the answer right out of him," says Brenna laughing. "I bet you he's too excited to speak."

"Oh that's it," I tell them turning around. "I was too busy imagining the new house we're going to have and all the fun new toys you guys will have." Lies.

"Hurry back," says Carmen, jumping up and down excitedly. "I'm going to start packing so I'll be ready."

Brenna and Julia are old enough to know there is a chance I'm not going to make it back. "I know you'll hurry back," says Brenna pointedly.

Mother, who had been hanging in the back walks forward. She has a long scar across her face from that night, and I can't even look at it right now. She grabs my face between her hands and forces me to look at her.

"Ekon," she tells me and my four sisters seem to disappear. "I know you've had some hard times, but I know you can do this. I know you're father would be proud of you."

"Mother," I tell her, softening in a way only she can make happen, "he wouldn't be proud of me. I'm a terrible person, and I've done terrible things and will do terrible things."

"Then do great things for your sisters. Give them a new house and a brother to be proud of. You saved me. Maybe you can save someone in the Games for a while. You are a good person, Ekon."

Now I'm truly speechless. "I'll try," I tell her, "but I don't know."

"You do know," she tells me. Then she turns to my sisters. "Brenna, Julia, Carmen, and Eka make sure you've said your goodbyes. This will be the last time we see Ekon for a while."

All four of them, Eka included, give me a group hug. They're your sisters, I tell myself, you won't hurt them again. So I hug them back.

The Peacekeepers come soon to escort them away. Eka lets the rest of our family go then turns to me when they're out of earshot. "Turn it all off, Ekon," she tells me. "Don't think about us; think about getting home."

If she would've said more, I'd never know cause the Peacekeepers tapped her on the shoulder and led her out. But who cares, right?

* * *

><p><strong>Aurora Chase - District 2 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>Jasmine and Clarissa were the first to come in. I hadn't really seen the two of them recently as both had turned 19 last year and had decided against becoming trainers. They were training to be Peacekeepers or something, and I was still at the training center.<p>

"How's are favorite volunteer," asks Jasmine, sitting on the threadbare couch beside me.

"Pissed," I tell her.

"Woah there, Aurora," says Clarissa. "Mad that Ekon was getting all the spotlight."

"Yes," I kinda snarled at them. "He's going to be the one getting sponsors. Not me."

"Where is our Aurora who likes to just sit and watch? The Capital is going to be making sure Ekon gets action to keep the crowd entertained. You can keep your strength as the crowd watches and roots for Ekon, and then you can make your move," Jasmine explains to me, and I remember why the three of us got along so well.

"Be that 'little crow' your boyfriend calls you and be the one who flies in the dark of the night," says Clarissa.

I don't tell her Jacqen isn't by boyfriend because I just like the sound of it too much. Instead I tell her, "Don't be so corny, Clarissa. You sound ridiculous."

She look at me agast. "What?" she says shocked. "I thought it was hilarious. How dare you!"

I'm a little put back, and it must show on my face because both Clarissa and Jasmine start laughing.

"Woah, little one," laughs Clarissa. "I'm just messing with you. Gotta prepare you for Nero Litskins' wonderful interview!"

I groan at that which only provokes more laughter from the two of them. Usually people laughing at me makes me angry, but I could never be angry at the two of them.

"Remember," chuckles Jasmine, "you volunteered for this."

When our laughter subsides, Jasmine pulls something out of her pocket. "We thought we'd bring you something for a token cause that doesn't really sound like your parents' thing."

I ignore the remark at my parents because really, I've heard it all before. I put my hand out because that seems to be what they want, and they drop a simple lightweight metal necklace into my palm.

"We made a clover pendant," explains Jasmine, "to remind you that you don't need luck because it's on you."

"You're the luck," quickly interrupts Clarissa, "not the pendant."

"Thanks," I tell both of them, clasping it around my neck. "I love it, and I understand what you mean. It's perfect."

The two of them smile, and I can't help but smile along side of them.

Then there's knocking at the door which means there time is up. Both give me tight hugs.

"I'd tell you 'may the odds be ever in your favor'", says Clarissa, "but the odds could be against you, and you'd still find a way to win."

"We'll have to hang out when I get back, " I tell them as they're escorted out the door.

"Love that confidence, girl!" shouts Jasmine and that's the last I'll hear from them until the Games are over.

Then my parents are ushered in.

I must be smiling cause as soon as the door slams shut, my dad's hollering at me. "Aurora, why are you smiling? You shouldn't be having fun. This is what you've been training your whole life for. Do not waste it because you weren't completely focused."

The smiles falls off my face. "I'll make sure it doesn't," I tell him.

"I'll make sure it doesn't what?"

"I'll make sure it doesn't, sir," I shout back at him.

My parents are worse than the trainers at the Academy. It's always sir and madam, and you must be the best in your class, and do all the chores after your exercises. The trainers are rough, but they treat you as equals.

"You'd better not come home a failure," says my mom, and I don't say the obvious remark that the only way I'd come home was if I was a success. She would not except that.

"We brought you your token," my dad tells me, and my mom pulls something out of her pockets. I don't let any expression make it to my face.

"It's a chain bracelet, " says my mom. My dad quickly interrupts her. "Each chain is hollow. You can see a certain indent where it's actually plastic that can be pierced. Each chamber has a different kind of poison you can use on your opponents."

"That's-," I start not knowing what to say because there are just so many things wrong with that.

"It's not the most honorable thing," says my mom, "but losing isn't honorable either. Didn't we teach you to do whatever it takes."

"Yes madam," I tell her as I let her clasp the filthy thing onto my wrist.

Both my parents look at each other which creates a pit of worry in my stomach. "We have nothing left for you," says my dad. "Do it and come home a Victor."

And then they both just walk out, and I feel hollow inside. My own parents. I don't exactly hate them, but I hate them right now. It's not their token that I want. The stupid bracelet is tainted. I want it off.

I go to the couch, and I'm trying to get the thing off but the clasp keeps falling out of my fingers cause I'm too angry and trying to work too quickly.

That's how Jacqen finds me: hunched over on the couch and cursing at some dumb piece of metal on my wrist.

"Calm down, my little crow," he says, sitting on the couch beside me. "Give me this wretched thing so I can free you. And then maybe you can tell me why you stormed out on me earlier."

I give him my wrist, but I don't speak. I can't tell him; it would be tolo mordifying.

He undoes the clasp and holds the thing in the air like it's some dangerous snake. "If you won't tell me about that, will you at least tell me what's so wrong with this bracelet," he asks.

"My parents gave it to me to be my token," I tell him, "but it's filled with poison making it a coward's and a cheater's weapon. Besides, Clarissa and Jasmine gave me a necklace to wear."

I pull it out from where I tucked it under my shirt and show him the clover.

"Perfect," he says smiling, "will you turn around for me."

I'm definitely a little confused, but this is Jacqen and he's never intentionally hurt me before. So I turn around so my back is facing him. I feel his fingers caressing the back of my neck, and I involuntarily shiver.

"It's not that cold in here," he says, misinterpreting the reason for my shiver. "They had better not put you in any kind of snowy arena."

I laugh a little until I realize he's slipping off my necklace. I start to protest until I feel something slide next to my clover.

"Don't look until I can see your expression," he says, obviously reading my mind that I wanted to see what it was. I can feel the cold clasp of the necklace fall back against my neck, and he put his hands on my shoulders to rotate me around.

"Now look," he tells me when I'm facing him.

I reach down to see what he did and realize he placed a new charm beside my clover. It must be a crow cause I don't know what other bird it might be.

"Thank you so much," I tell him, throwing my arms around him to give him an awkward hug considering our positions on the couch. He hugs me back as best he can. I secretly hate myself as I realize it would've been the perfect opportunity to kiss him.

"I planned it with Jasmine and Clarissa," he tells me when I let go of him. "It's a crow so you'll always know I'm rooting for you."

"You're the best friend I could ever wish for," I tell him, choking out the 'best friend' part. "The next month without you will be horrible."

"You'll have to come home to me," he says, "but I'm always right here," and he presses his hand close to my chest, over my heart and necklace, and I'm sure he must feel my heart pounding.

The dreaded Peacekeepers knock, and I hate them for cutting our time short.

"This is goodbye for now," says Jacqen rising and grabbing my hands and pulling me up too. He pulls me close, and I swear he's about to kiss me. Instead, he pulls me into a close hug and whispers "may the odds be ever in your favor" in my ear.

Then he's out the door, and I'm stuck on the couch waiting for my escort and hating that I couldn't gather the courage to kiss him.

* * *

><p><strong>Those are the last two career tributes. Aurora and Ekon join Phoenix, Coral, Emerald, and Glitz. <strong>

**Let me know what you think and any predictions for the games so far? I have a clear picture of what I want the arena to be, but I want to know you're thinking.**


	6. District 3 Reaping

****I honestly can't believe I'm back to this story, but one of my online friends encouraged me to start writing again so here I am. As I wrote this chapter, I realized how much I really missed it. I'm now determined this story will have an ending.****

****Also, in no way to I support Selita's lifestyle. Drugs and alcohol can lead to unhealthy decisions and should be avoided or used responsibily and legally. ****

* * *

><p><strong><strong>District 3 Reaping<strong>**

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Selita Cyrus - District 3 Female<strong>**

* * *

><p>There's a really bright light shining in my face, and I really don't know what it is. I try swatting at it, but then realize my eyes are closed so I can't see what I'm trying to hit. I open my eyes, and then rapidly close them again as the light burns.<p>

"Woah Lita," I hear someone beside me say, "can't believe you're up already. We, well you, got so stoned last night like I can't even."

"Not awake," I manage to groan in response as I flip over. I'm in a bed, that much I can tell.

"I made some of that watered down coffee they give to the factory workers if you want some," says the person. "You'll totally need it."

"Ugh," I tell them as I feel my way towards the edge of the bed. It's kinda comfy which is weird because nothing's comfy here. "Just turn down that light and shut up."

"Hey, hey, sorry girl," says unknown person. They can't seem to shut up, but at least the room gets darker so I can actually open my eyes.

And I am in a bed in a room that looks like the typical apartment in District 3. But there's someone standing in the doorway with two mugs of coffee.

"Parker?" I asked confused because I have no clue why I would be in his room. I start to get up, but he backs away.

He puts the coffees on the dresser and throws something at me. I realize it's a bra, and I'm totally lost on why Parker would have a bra. Then I realize for some reason I'm wearing no clothes and that's my bra. My whole body turns red at what that implies, and I barely notice Parker scurry out of the room and close the door.

I put on my bra and find the rest of my clothes from the day before scattered around the room. Slowly I put them on and try to remember yesterday. Some arguing with my parents, and then I went out after doing a short shift at the factory. Nothing unusual except I can't remember anything after my fifth shot.

Oh god, I think my myself. I try to run my hand through my hair, but it's even knottier than usual. I'll just have to throw it up if I can find something to hold it up with.

At some point, Parker must have reentered the room because I hear him indiscreetly coughing to get my attention.

I turn around ready to demand some answers, but all my words get caught in my throat. All I end up doing is motioning around the room with some messed up expression on my face.

"You don't remember anything about last night, do you?" he asks, shoving the mug of coffee in my hand.

I'm really thankful for that because I can take a sip and shake my head and not use any words because I can't talk.

"Umm, well this is awkward," he says and I just nod which really doesn't help him out at all. "You came over yesterday evening an absolute mess about something your mother had done and how your father won't do anything about it. I asked if you wanted to talk about it and you said no, you just wanted to forget about it. Aftering hitting up the bar down the street, we went through my supply of weed and most of my alcohol. You were way more stoned than I was, and you kinda came on to me."

This is when I stare into my coffee mug and pray that it swallows me whole.

"I had every attention of stopping you, but," this is where he trails off and an awkward silence fills the room. I hate it so much. Awkward silences were never my thing and certainly not this one. I can't think of anything to say.

Eventually I can't stand it anymore and speak up. "This is a lot to process," I tell him, "can you light something up so I can take a drag?"

"Lita," he says, taking my hand in his. I quickly rip it away because I don't want there to be anything between us, at least anymore than there already is now. "Lita," he continues, "I really think you should lay off everything for a while. At least until after the Reaping is over today."

"Fuck," I mumbled, "to top off this shitty morning."

I start to make my way out the door, but my vision is still a little fuzzy, and I don't think my legs are connected correctly.

"Need some help?" asked Parker.

"No, I think you've already helped enough," I shout at him.

"Hey," he says, putting his hands up in a defensive position. "About last night, we could just forget it never happened. I didn't want to hurt you or anything."

I considering starting an argument, but I really don't feel like fighting. It was never really worth it.

"Yeah, whatever Parker," I tell him, shrugging it off. "Maybe we can hang after the Reaping cause I'll totally need something to help with the nerves."

I can see Parker's head is spinning, but he just shrugs off my weird mood swing. "You know I'll be in the crowd nervous for all you little ones. Might need something for my nerves too, Lita. It was only last year I was with you, you know."

I roll my eyes at him, take a swig of some drink on the counter, and walk out the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Bryce Stone - District 3 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>"Wakey, wakey," I hear in my good ear. Mickie is sitting on the edge of my bed and hitting me with her favorite stuffed bunny that's missing an ear. "Daddy told me to tell you Father is making breakfast that is yummy yummy yummy," she squeaks a little louder than necessary.<p>

"Tell them to give me a few more minutes," I groan to her. I finally got a day to sleep in, but of course, I can't.

"Nope nope," she tells me, hitting me again with her bunny. "Daddy said he had already given you as long as he could. And I can't eat until you do. So get up, up up!"

"Come on, Mickie," I beg of her, just playing with her a little. "I don't really want to eat. I think I'd much rather sleep for another hour."

"Bryce," she whines at me, "Don't be such a meanie and get up!" She starts to tug on my arm, but she's so small that it really won't even budge me. I let her pretend to drag me out of bed. She pulls me right past my bin with all my clothes in it.

"Mickie," I tell her, "I need to put some daytime clothes on before we eat."

"No," she says, "after."

And I just shrug to myself and follow her because she just has that face you can't say no to. She finally releases my hand when we reach the main room, confident I will no longer try to run away from her and delay breakfast eating.

I sit down at the table, and Daddy places four plates with a pancake at each spot. Mickie is basically jumping up and down with excitement. Father laughs as he sits down across from me.

"I wish we could make you these more often since they make you so happy Mickie," says Father. And I can hear that sadness in his voice that comes from not always being able to get me and Mickie what we need and want. According to District 3 laws, we aren't even a family; we're just two widowed fathers each with a child who live together. We don't get the bonus given to worker families, and I know it weighs on them. Mickie can't possibly have realize it, but she handles the situation wonderfully.

"But if we got pancakes every day, then today wouldn't be special," she tells Father and he smiles at her. "I love special days."

Daddy sits downs down, handing each of us a fork or fork looking object. "Today's not a good special day though because it's Reaping Day. It's a very bad day."

A very bad day indeed. I have to force myself to swallow because all of a sudden, my throat feels really dry. Thinking of the Reaping always leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

"Oh, is this the day were the Capital steals two kids who don't come back, right?" she answers in that innocent voice of hers. Only a young child could speak about something like killing 23 children over breakfast without batting an eyelash.

"Yes it is," says Father, "but maybe some year, one of the kids will come back."

And suddenly I'm too nauseous to eat. I push my half-eaten pancake away from me and get up. I don't care if I'm still in my night clothes, but I just need fresh air or as fresh as it ever gets in District 3.

"Where do you think you're going," asks Father, using his assertive voice.

"Out," I tell him, "because I can't hear you talking about this like it's not happening to be today," I shout at him, not understanding why I suddenly feel like I need to be loud. "Just teach Mickie about it but don't make me listen to how bad something is that I'll have to live through in a couple hours. Just don't."

Mickie, to her credit, sits there silently as Father gets up and walks me back to the table and forces me to sit back down.

"It is terrible, Bryce, " starts Daddy, surprising me because he is usually the more quiet one. "I was seven when the rebellion took place, and I remember the fighting and then the pure, unsettling silence, and then the gas that killed my parents -"

"- and mine," adds Father.

"And that was truly terrible. I remember thinking during my Reapings that I had already suffered enough. My parents had fought, and they were killed. What did I have to do with any of this? But the Capital doesn't understand reason, so you just have to accept that the Hunger Games are what they are. Just go from one year to the next and that's all we can do."

"May the odds be ever in your favor sounds weak, but they really are. I mean, there are so many children here in District 3."

"But-", I start.

"There are buts to everything," says Father, "however, you just have to learn when to ignore them. Ignore them now because it's only going to make days like these worse."

"No buts, no buts, no buts," shouts Mickie, giggling like crazy.

"I'm not losing my child to the Capital like I lost my whole family," says Daddy.

I nod, but I really don't feel all that better. No matter if I lost my grandparents or if there are a lot of children, it still could be me this year or next or even the year after. But I do manage to force down the rest of my pancake.

* * *

><p><strong>Selita Cyrus - District 3 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>Parker lives in the seedier part of District 3 as he's a young minor with a low level factory job. The streets are crooked, and the morning air is dirty with all smoke that's spit out from the factories. My head feels like it's going to split open, and I vomit a little in my mouth.<p>

I see a couple younger girls standing on a street corner, so I make my way over to them. When I say younger, I doubt they're older than 21.

"Do you know the way to Wire Street?" I ask them.

The oldest looking one just looks down at me. "It's about eleven blocks that way," she says, pointing down another street. "But it really looks like you could use a little pick-me-up. Rough night?" she asks.

"Parents fighting the night before Reaping," I tell them and accept whatever concoction the only blonde of the group is offering me. It could be poisonous but I don't give a fuck right now.

"Sucks balls," the third member comments. "Reapings were lame."

I nod in agreement and take a swig of the juice. Almost instantly, my head starts to feel clearer and my want to vomit my stomach up lessens. "Damn," I tell them appreciately.

"It works miracles," says the oldest looking one. "So is this your last Reaping?"

I snort a bit as I try not to laugh. "I wish," I told them, "I've got four more to get my ass through."

At the same time, they all look at me with some expression I can't quite place.

"You're a little young to be out and about down here," says the blonde. "If your boyfriend lives out here, maybe you should find yourself another one a bit younger. That red hair of yours has got to get some boys your age hot."

And that's exactly what my stupid mother always tells me. And Parker's not my boyfriend no matter what happened last night.

"I don't need your condescending tone," I tell them, "I get enough of that from my mother so why don't you shut up."

"Girl," says the third who's been the quietest so far, "your momma's probably just worried about you, that's all."

"She's got a funny way of showing it then," I snap back because I really don't need this. Not now. Not after this morning.

"Just go to the Reaping now," says the oldest, "it's eight blocks in the opposite direction of your house. Afterwards, talk to your mother cause nothing brings a family together like a healthy dose of fear."

"Whatever," I tell them. "My family's not like that at all, but thanks for whatever is in the cup. It works like a miracle."

"Secret recipe," says the blonde, taking a drink of it herself. "Sorry that I can't share it with you."

"Nah," I tell her, "I survived many mornings without it."

The girls laugh and wish be good luck at the Reaping. Ugh, the Reaping. The whole event is just the most shitty combination of boring and nerve wracking that just makes you want to smoke it all away. At least Parker and my mother will probably not be there.

I walk the eight blocks slower than I normally would've because the drink helped, but I'm still a little disorientated, and the Reaping isn't someplace I actually want to be walking to.

There are other kids walking with their parents to the Reaping alongside of me. I recognize some from school, but I don't make any move to talk to them and neither do they to me. The kids at school think I'm quiet; they really don't know me.

I see the city center just a block in front of me, and it's filled with people. I'm not in the mood to deal with people, but I throw myself into the clump anyway. I feel a boy reach his hand into my pocket, so I smack it away. I see him scamper off, and I just don't care enough to give chase. It's not like I have anything of value on me.

Soon I'm pushed in front of the peacekeepers. "Selita Cyrus," I tell him as I give him my hand. As the blood sample machine dings, I see a frown on his face. He marks something next to my name, but let's me pass anyway. I remember hearing kids at the club a couple nights ago talking about how the blood tests now could detect drug usage. I bet you that's all that is.

The fifteen year olds in my section so far are all prissy little things wearing their best dresses. I look down my my shirt and ripped jeans, conscious of the fact that I smell like stale alcohol. Oh well.

* * *

><p><strong>Bryce Stone - District 3 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>I scratch at the itchy tie around my neck that Father somehow managed to get on me. Something about how I needed to look nice to show our neighbors that two men could in fact raise children. Mickie's dressed in an adorable purple dress with mismatched bows in her hair, and she's still smiling despite Daddy trying to explain the Reaping to her.<p>

They leave me as I approach the line to sign in. Both give me a kiss on the cheek. I see a couple of the boys in the year above me making faces, but I ignore them.

"Don't worry," says Daddy, "there are so many names in the bowl."

"Including mine," I can't resist saying.

Father just glares at me with a now worried looking Mickie in his arms. I can tell he wants to say something to erase my doubt, but he doesn't. Instead, I get swept up in the kids and he never gets the chance.

Now I'll have to see him after the Reaping because there's still something to say between us. Somehow, that assured me more than anything he could have said.

Then I'm at the Peacekeepers for the fifth time. For the fifth time, I tell them I'm Bryce Stone and let them take my blood sample. I go join all the sixteen year olds near the front.

I see some of my friends from school, but I make no move to go over them. I guess I just feel like being alone. Not that I'm alone in my thoughts for long because soon the mayor is up on the stage. He taps the microphone and a horrible screeching sounds across the square and in my ear

My stupid old hearing aid must be reacting with the microphone frequency. I quickly reach for the dials on the side and change the frequency channel. The dumb thing is so old, and it chooses to show it at the worst times. The annoying noise stops, and I stop clutching my head. My ears are still ringing as the mayor apologizes for the equipment malfunction.

When I can hear normally again, I can hear the Treaty of Treason is being read, and I can't help but picture both Father and Daddy standing here as young boys and hearing it for the first time. The video is being shown with the District 3 rebels being gassed inside their factory. My grandparents; my stomach clenches uncomfortably. I feel ill.

Then our Escort is up on the stage wearing something ridiculous. "Hello District 3," she shouts into the mic only to be greeted with silence. I want to shout "Hello murderer," but I don't.

"I guess we should pick our tributes now," she says. "Boys first this year."

My stomach drops as she walks over to the large Reaping bowl holding my name and the names of all the boys around me. Her hand reaches in and pulls out one slip. Without opening it, she walks over to the microphone.

"Our male tribute from District 3 is - Bryce Stone," she announce after a pause. I feel like I'm going to faint. The boys shy away from me like I've got the plague, and the end results are basically the same.

* * *

><p><strong>Selita Cyrus - District 3 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>Almost as soon as Bryce Stone is reaped, I hear a high pitched cry echo across the square. If I had to bet on it, I'd place a month's supply of weed on a younger sister. It doesn't stop even as he slowly climbs up onto the stage. It looks like he could use some of that miracle drink from the girls.<p>

"Welcome up here," says the biggest priss of them all. The boy doesn't even react to hearing her. I like how he makes the Escort all huffy as she shuffles over to the girls' Reaping bowl.

"I guess it's time to pick our female tribute," she says then pauses. I don't know if she's expecting an applause but she has to be completely stoned if she really expects one. And she reaches her hand in and pulls a slip. Her way back to the mic makes me wish I had something to to get my mind off this.

"Let's welcome Selita Cyrus up to the stage," she says, and I'm positive I'm on something because I swear I just heard my name. "Selita Cyrus," she repeats, and I realize that this is reality.

It's silent as I trudge my way up to the stage. No screaming sisters or crying friends. I doubt Parker will even realize I've been Reaped until he sees it on TV tonight. If both my parents are here, I'll be surprised.

I trip over the steps, but I manage to catch myself before I actually fall. "Fucking great," I whisper to myself.

The Escort guides me up to Bryce on stages and he refuses to look at me, and instead stares the the buildings in the distance. I decide to stare at her instead.

"Can I hear some support for Bryce Stone and Selita Cyrus, your tributes for the 28th Hunger Games?" she shouts.

And I expect nothing because it's Bryce who looks like a little bit short but otherwise average boy and me, the quiet awkward druggie. But there's a rhythmic clapping that starts up and builds in volume until it suddenly stops when a gunshot is fired from somewhere.

It somehow makes me feel better as I numbly shake Bryce's hand and allow myself to be led into the mayor's tower.

They led me to the plainest room ever - plain but clean. There's a couch that doesn't look like it's roach infested, and a side table that doesn't look like it has any water damage. My last moments in District 3 will be spent in a room that is nothing like it. For some reason, it makes me laugh, and I can't stop.

"You stupid girl," shouts my mother as she walks in in front of my father, "how can you be laughing now. You're going to the fucking Hunger Games."

I start to get defensive, and I'm about to tell her than I didn't want this to happen to me when she hugs me. "Stupid, stupid little girl," she repeats in my ear, and I realize that she's been crying. She is sad.

"Mother," I saw awkwardly, wrapping my arms back around her. The two of us have never seen eye to eye, and we haven't been close since I was younger.

My father smiles at me in encouragement. He loves both me and my mother, and I guess seeing the two of us not screaming at each other is a dream come true.

"I'm sorry I never listened to you," I tell my mother though I'm not completely. But for some reason, the finality of this makes me want to say it. "You just wanted what was best for me, and I should've realized it."

"No," says my mother, pulling me tighter, "I should've respected your right to make your own decisions. You were always so smart but never with people. I did want the world for you, but it's your world."

The days after I've gone out, I'm always a little unstable which is I what I'm going to blame for why I have tears dripping from my eyes.

"Don't cry," says my mother, reverting almost back into her scolding tone but it's messed up by a choked sob. "Your father thought I should bring you something." And she pulls almost the last thing I expected out of her pocket. It was my long chain necklace were I always kept a rolled joint tucked in it instead of a picture or lock or hair or something. My mother has tried to throw it out several times, but my father always got it back for me. "To show you that I do care," she says simply.

I reach out and grab it and tucking it into my pocket, I hug both my parents. I guess the girls were right, the thought of imminent death really does bring the family together. So when the Peacekeepers come to take them away, they both give me a kiss on the cheek.

I don't know, the whole situation is just weird to me. I go to the clean couch and just sit.

Suddenly, the door slams open and I jump a little because I wasn't expecting any more visitors.

Looking up, I see Parker; he looks a little unstable and his eyes are definitely glazed over. I don't know how they let him in here. "Shit," I say to myself. I already made peace with my parents, why did I have to deal with him now.

"You," he says, slurring his words and staggering over to me. "You are a little bitch who wormed her way into my life and is now being pulled out." And then he kisses me roughly before I have time to respond.

I'm not sure what to do, but I just go with it. He's hot and needy, and I'd bet this will be the last time I ever kiss anyone. When he pulls away, he just mutters, "Lita" and keeps his face close to mine.

"I could never," he starts before trailing off and starting again, "I could never ever forget last night in a million years. I will miss you more than stuff that people miss a lot."

"I'll miss you too, Parker," I tell him and smile. And I think that's all he needed to hear because he smiles, kisses my cheek, and leaves. Maybe tomorrow he'll regret not saying more, but right now he's high and happy which is all I want. He's my District 3, and I smile at that thought.

* * *

><p><strong>Bryce Stone - District 3 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>I throw my tie across the room because I swear it's suffocating me. Just I can't believe any of this. A couple of my school friends came to visit me, but I honestly can't remember what happened. The last twenty minutes has really been a blur. I go from feeling sick, to feeling like I'm going to pass out, to being completely calm with the entire thing.<p>

When my family walks in, I want to cry. Mickie has already been crying and screaming, and now she just looks tired with her red and puffy face. Both my father looks like they're barely holding it together.

I want to tell them that they lied to me, and the stupid piece of paper with my name on it did get picked, but I don't. Because really, what's the point. I'm screwed no matter what.

"You can still come home," says Daddy, "you're smart. You might be a little short, but I know you're strong. Just play their game and come home."

"But's it's not a game," I shout slash whine slash groan at them, "it's a killing death match that I have to actually participate in. That's not me."

Father grabs me by the shoulders and looks me in the eye. "That's who you'll have to be if you are going to come home to us. It's going to be rough for you, but think about how bad it is going to be for Mickie every year after this if you're not going to be home. I've already lost my older brother to this. I don't want to lose my son too."

I just nod and wrap my arms around him because I can't think of anything to say.

"So tell me you'll do everything you can do," he asks of me. "Actually, why don't you tell Mickie."

Daddy puts Mickie on the ground, and she comes running over to me and throws her arms around my waist. "I love you Brycie," she tells me, "why do you have to leave me? I thought you liked me? Don't you like me?" And she starts crying again.

I get down on my knees and hold her. "I do love you Mickie," I tell her, wiping the tears from her eyes with the bottom of my shirt. "And I promise I'll do everything I can to return home to you."

"You really, really promise?' she asks me with her pretty little eyes wide open.

"Yes," I tell her, " I really, really, _really_promise."

"Then I can give you Mr. Bunny to watch over you," she says, pulling her ragged stuffed bunny out of her pocket. "He always comes back to me." She pauses before looking around nervously then stands on her tiptoes, using my shoulder as a balance, and whispering in my ear, "I even left him in preschool one day, and the next day, my teacher said he had been waiting for me to come back all night. He's a smart and reli-rely-" "reliable," offers Daddy. "reliable bunny," finishes Mickie.

I accept Mr. Bunny and hold him gingerly because it's very likely he can just fall apart in my hands.

"Thank you," I tell her. "I'll make sure both me and Mr. Bunny get back home to you."

The Peacekeepers make their entrance and both Father and Daddy give me one last hug before picking Mickie up and leaving me alone.

Maybe I could win, but part of my brain is telling me it's just a stupid thought. Kids older and stronger than me have been training their entire lives for this. Even kids from the other outside districts will be promising siblings they'll return. Why would I be the one who can return?

The Peacekeepers find me sitting on the couch with my head in my hands and Mr. Bunny sitting on the side table, looking at me with his sad face.

* * *

><p><strong>So I changed both Bryce and Selita around, but I tried to keep their family life and what I saw as their most distinguishing characteristic the same. <strong>

**Hopefully my old readers are still there and maybe I'm getting some new ones. If you're new and want some characters in the story, feel free to send in some Victors/Mentors or Escorts. There's no form but just send in whatever you want me to include.**


	7. District 5 Reaping

**Once again, it's been a long while but life is hectic. This story will be written.**

**The chapter addresses some dark themes so be careful *trigger warnings***

* * *

><p><strong>District 5 Reaping<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Eboni Mullins - District 5 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>There's a large sweaty body on top of me, and the sweat is dripping onto my bare skin. Something's pressing my body down, and no matter how much I struggle, I can't move. I feel my pants being dragged down my legs, I try to scream but a giant meaty hand is being shoved over my mouth. I try kicking, but my hips are being ground into the gravel. Eventually, I just go limp and try to ignore what's happening.<p>

When the man finally leaves, I'm just laying on the ground and my whole body is shaking. I think my lip is split, and there's blood all over my legs and areas I don't want to think about. I want to get up and run away, but everything hurts too much to move.

There are tears rushing down my face. I feel like I'm going to die here, and I realize I don't really care at this point.

Suddenly, I hear a loud whistling sound that means someone had called the Peacekeepers to the area.

And then I'm sitting up in my bed, and I'm the one covered in sweat. Suddenly my whole stomach is heaving, and I stumble out of bed and run to the bathroom. Pulling back my brown hair, I lose last night's dinner down the toilet. Soon there's nothing left in my stomach to come up.

I'm stuck dry heaving until I can catch my breath. Oh god, I wish this would all end. But for now, all I can do is straighten myself and get myself a glass of water.

"Are you up already?" I hear my momma call up to me. "Are you feeling okay?"

I resist the urge to groan. Of course she heard me; I wasn't exactly quiet. I don't want their attention, but some traitorous part of me loves it.

"Is it just normal morning sickness?" she asks me, appearing in the bathroom doorway. "Do you want me to call Derik or anything?"

No anything but calling Derik, I want to scream at her, but I don't. My stupid boyfriend who still cares around me despite letting myself get raped by someone else. Who still cares about me even though I'm filthy.

"No," I tell her calmly, "he has to get ready for the Reaping too. There's nothing special to worry him about."

"If that's what you want," she tells me, brushing some spare hair over my shoulder and leaning over to kiss my cheek. "Maybe you can help me prepare breakfast for the boys if you want something to do?"

Bless my momma, she's one of the only reasons I'm still alive. I nod and follow her down to the kitchen making sure to be quiet past the room where my three brothers sleep. The twins just turned 19 and Marco is only 9 so none of us are eligible for the Reaping this year except me.

They'll all still go though. 'Got to make sure my sure my little sister is safe," Fabian would say. But he didn't keep me safe. I'm disgusting, and there's nothing any of them can do about it. But they won't let me talk like that.

I realize I briefly stopped, so I put on a fake smile like I've gotten so used to doing, and continue in step behind my mother. Maybe if I keep smiling, I'll actually become happy. Maybe.

I sigh, and Momma turns to give me a worried look. I give her what I hope is my best reassuring smile, and she gives her attention back to the kitchen.

She turns the stove on and adjusts the heat, so I grab a pot from under the sink and start to fill it with water to boil. I put it on the heat and go to get out some bowls. Momma puts out our sack of oatmeal and ladles out five scoops in the bowls for the whole family.

"Did you have nightmares again?" she asks as we're both waiting for the water to boil.

Another topic I've been trying to avoid because what can I say. Yes, because I'm weak. Yes, and some nights I'm afraid to fall asleep at because it keeps happening again and again. Yes, I feel like I have failed you and Pappa as a daughter and the boys as a sister and Derik as a girlfriend. I can't say any of that.

"No," I tell her, willing the dark circles under my eyes to be invisible, "I haven't for a couples weeks now."

I see a look in my momma's eyes that says she doesn't actually believe me, but she doesn't call it out. A nearly uncomfortable silence descends, and I'm so thankful the water starts to boil.

"Eboni, I got this," says my momma, "why don't you wake the boys? Tell them breakfast is ready, and I bet you they'll be down here in a second."

"Sure," I tell her just to get out of her presence that makes me want to tear myself apart.

* * *

><p><strong>Eli York - District 5 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>"I thank the Lord for this bountiful meal and ask for strength to survive this trying day. Let you show mercy on your humble follower, Eli, and spare him from the Reaping. Amen," says my Papa.<p>

"Amen," repeat the rest of us. I let go of my other Grandpa's hand and my mother's hand to pick up my fork and dig into the eggs and hashbrowns my grandmothers had cooked this morning.

There's a quiet lull around the table as the seven of us are busy eating. It's pleasant just to be in the presence of everyone. It's the sound of contentedness and belonging. I smile to myself.

"Delicious as always," I tell Nana and Grandma. I love seeing the smile on their faces. That is the picture of happiness.

"Thanks, honey," says Nana. "Nothing but the best for my grandbaby on this terrible Reaping Day," Grandma tells me. My father reaches across the table to ruffle my hair. I see my mother smile at the gester.

I wish they could all stand in the Center with me because they make me feel safe. Standing there all by myself is like being a lone candle flickering on a windy night - bright but on the cusp of going out. Hey, that sounds good. I pull out my small notebook book I keep in my pocket and scribble it down.

"Another line for your new poem?" asks my mother.

And I just nod because I don't want to forget what I'm writing because my mind is on the spoken not written word. Liking the way that though sounds, I write it down too.

"Our little writer," laughs my Grandpa, lightly punching me in the shoulder. I flinch a little and rub the spot only to see my Grandpa look a little disappointed despite his joking attitude. I know he wishes I was technically smart so I could follow after him and my father as chief technical engineer at the power plant. "What are you going to do with that skill?" he asks.

"Sparrs," scolds my Grandma, "Eli can do whatever he wants with his future."

"Elictria," counters my Grandpa at her, "this is District 5, his future is in power and nothing more."

"Both of you," threatens my father.

I see my Grandpa about to make one of his famous retorts about how he wasn't going to let me waste all the work he put into putting our family in the Capital's favor. He can go on about that, and that's not how I want to spend breakfast on Reaping Day.

Quickly before he can start, I interrupt. "Actually Grandpa," I tell him, "I want to the district correspondent that reports to Capital about output and upkeep. Hopefully that'll mean I'll be invited to the mayor's house, and I can share my poetry with them."

"You keep working towards that, sonny," says my Grandpa, but I have the feeling that he's being at least slightly sarcastic. I see a heated gazing contest going on between him and my father. Sometimes they're so similar and sometimes I wonder how they're related at all.

"Eli," says my mother breaking the intense silence, "it looks like everyone is nearly done eating. Why don't you clear the dishes? I'll wash them, so you can going to Leslie's."

Excited about getting to Leslie's, I quickly pick up everyone's dishes and put them in the sink. My mother pulls on my sleeve as I walk out of the kitchen. "See you at the Reaping, honey," she says, leaning to give me a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you there too," I tell her as I give her a hug. "Now let me go," I tell her as I jokingly try to push her away.

She let's me go, and I make my out my front door and down the street. There are only a couple people out and about. Most are busy and pay no attention to me as I wave them a good morning. In a couple minutes, I'm at Leslie's door.

I'm about to knock when it swings open, and I'm greeted with Leslie's smiling face. She plants a quick kiss on my lips and pulls me inside.

"I've been staring out my front window for you to arrive," she tells me as she leads me to the room her parents use as an office. "I thought you wouldn't show up today."

I gently laugh at that. "Of course I'd come," I tell her, putting a light kiss at the corner of her mouth. "How could I miss today?"

"I don't know," she says, throwing her hands up in the air. "Life gets weird on Reaping Day, like everyone is rewired for the singular purpose of simply surviving."

As soon as she says that, we both smile at each other because we know that could be brilliant in the right context. She grabs her own book of the desk and writes it down. As soon as she finishes, she smiles up at me.

"We're going to be glorious one day," she tells me. "Absolutely fantastic. So Allons-y," she shouts.

"Allons-what?" I ask her, laughing at her antics.

"I think it's from a language called Frenth," she tells me. "I've found mentions of different languages in the books I've taken from that old abandoned library. I have no clue what it means, but doesn't it sound wonderful. It sounds like the beginning of an adventure."

"Why don't you have this adventure from somewhere else," call her father from somewhere else in the house. "Your mother and I could use some quiet. I'm sure you two can hang somewhere else until Reaping starts."

Leslie rolls her eyes at me before calling back up, "Sure father dearest. Me and Eli will just slowly walk to the Center. I'll make sure you see you before hand. I love you."

"Love you too," shouts her father and I faintly hear her mother echoing the same thing.

"Allons-y," she whispers to me as we walk out the door. "Because we know our adventure can't end today if it is only beginning."

And I just hold her hand at that and smile because it is too beautiful and perfect to risk ruining by writing it down.

* * *

><p><strong>Eboni Mullins - District 5 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>There's a lot of people in the Center, and I feel like I'm going to vomit again. Every time someone casually bumps into me or accidently shoves me to the side, my heart starts palpitating. I can just feel their sweaty bodies close to me, and I want to scream that I have already been through so much and I want to be alone.<p>

Little Marco grabs ahold of my arm, and I almost throw him off me. He just smiles at me with his precious blue eyes, and all I want to do is get as far away from him as possible; the man had blue eyes.

My whole family gives me a hug as we approach where we'll be sectioned off. Out of everyone, my momma hugs me the tightest. She wants me to feel safe, but all I can feel is the slight bump of my abdomen against hers - the abomination growing inside of me.

"You'll be okay, sweetie," she tells me. "You've been through so much lately that today shouldn't even faze you. A hydrolytic engineer called earlier about taking you on as his apprentice after seeing your test scores. We can do that later. You know, focus on the positive."

I just nod because how can I reply to that. Everything she just said to me was a lie. I'm so shaken that any second I feel my lungs will stop working. I'm pregnant with some rapist's bastard; there is no future for me- not in simple factory work or teaching like my parents and certainly not in hydrolytic engineering.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," says my pappa, pulling my momma off of me and wrapping her in his arms.

A smile at both of them and then turn and join the line of kids waiting to be processed by the Capital. Most kids around me were somber and the jostling was generally nonexistent. It did a little to calm my stomach.

When I reached the front of the line, the Peacekeeper motioned me forward. He could be anyone in the uniform and I didn't move forward until some boy behind me gave a little push.

It wasn't until I saw his tiny hands that couldn't possible have been the meaty ones that have been plaguing my nights that I let him take my blood.

"Name, ma'am," he says in a voice of someone who couldn't be very old.

"Eboni Mullins," I told him in a shaky voice that I barely recognized as my own. He just nodded, waved me through, and motioned for the boy behind me to move forward.

As I made my way through past the younger kids, the kids around me started to be larger and more threatening. No one was bulky in District 5, but most kids were taller than me. I tried to block my peripheral vision with my hair, but I could always see them.

I see Derik with the boys, and I know he sees me. I can see his face light up and he starts to make his way out of his age group with the obvious intention of greeting me. My eyes dart quickly around because I have to avoid this. I need to avoid this.

But I don't and soon he's right in front of me. He doesn't go to hug me or even kiss me; he just stands there.

"Eboni," he breathes out like he's missed saying it. Probably because he has with all the effort I've put into avoiding him. "How are you doing? Is everything okay?"

"It's Reaping Day," I snap at him without thinking, not even regretting it. "How do you think I'm feeling?"

He just looks at me with his caring, pitying face, and I want to cry. I don't deserve any of this. He reaches to hold my hand, but I pull it away from him. I see a little hurt in his eyes, and I like it. He deserves someone clean and solely his own - not someone like me.

"Look, I understand this public setting on such a day is probably overwhelming," he says to me, "but why don't you and your family come over to my place for lunch. Make this promise for me so I know you'll survive."

I don't want to promise anything to him. What would my promises mean anyway.

But there's something I've gotten good at the last couple months, and it's lying. So I nod and agree to meet with him. Yes, I'll tell my whole family, and I'm sure they'll be pleased to come.

He gives me that smile that means he thinks I'm making progress. Once again he reaches for my hand, and once again I draw away.

"Go back," I tell him. "After Reaping," I tell him in a chopped manner that isn't how I speak. "Okay?"

"Yeah, anything Eboni," he tells me that makes me feel vile. I had to get away from him before I poisoned him. I quickly nod, smile, and turn away from him.

I slide in with the sixteen year olds, looking around and feeling much safer with just girls around me. But one of them would die that didn't deserve to. Out of everyone, I was the filthiest, covered in the sweat of a man I would never know. I had a family I didn't deserve. Out of everyone, I should be the one to die.

* * *

><p><strong>Eli York - District 5 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>I want Leslie to be by my side, not the group of boys who make up my age group. Most of them are taller then me, and I feel like I'm trapped.<p>

A couple boys from school squeeze next to me, and my heart nearly stops when realize it's Chad and his friends. Ever since they got ahold of one of my notebooks, they've teased me relentlessly everyday.

'Try to get away,' Papa always says. Looking around, I realized there was no where I could possibly go. I'm sure there was something beautifully ironic about how I was trapped by both the Capital and my District, but I couldn't give it any more thought.

"Hey, Pansy," says Chad, moving next to me. He's only a couple inches taller than me, but I feel like a speck of dust compared to him. "Where's your little girl to protect you? Is your heart beating with fear like the sound of gunshots."

He's messing up words with such blatant carelessness that I want to cringe for him. But if I can't get away, I must just ignore him. He can't physically hurt me - not here in the square with kids and Peacekeepers all around. There's really nothing he can do.

"Maybe a cat's got his tongue," laughs one of the friends, probably thinking he's being witty.

"The dumbass has probably gone mute from writing and not talking," says another one, earning a laugh from most of the boys around me, even the ones who are friendly to me in school. I can't blame them as belonging is the greatest feeling of all. And I don't have to listen to them because my parents and my grandparents care for me. I belong to them and to Leslie and to the Lord above.

"As long as he's not deaf," adds Chad, "so he can hear the Escort call an end to his pitiful little life. Wouldn't that be funny, everyone. The Capital's favorite family's little baby being taken away. What would that be, Eli?" he asks me, knowing I won't respond. "Poetic is the word I would use."

'Not poetic,' I tell myself, 'tragic.'

"The little poetry girl meets a poetic ending," says a member of the crowd. And the kids laugh again.

A couple more taunts are thrown at me, but I'm in my head still.

Suddenly the booming sound of the microphone echoes across the Center. Chad and his friends quiet down as the Mayor takes the stage. 'Bullies bow down to bullies,' I think to myself.

I hate saying things passed in the blur, but they honestly did. The reading of the Treaty of Treason and the playing of the video seems to happen without me having noticed. I'm only drawn back to reality when some flighty Capitalite takes the stage and two large bowls are brought out.

"District 5," she calls out in an accent that matches her attire, "let's see who our female tribute for the 28th Hunger Games will be!"

Let her pick anyone but Leslie. I could never live without her.

"Will Lickta Wasser please come up to the stage?" she calls out. "Lickta Wasser." The name echoes across the Center until a small, dark skinned girl appears from the back of the crowd. "Come up on stage, sweetie," she calls out, and the little girl stumbles forward.

She almost trips up the steps, and she looks like she's going to pass out. The Escort tries to hold Lickta's hand, but she just backs away.

"I guess we'll choose our male now, guys," she chirps, walking to the second bowl.

Dread sits uncomfortably in my stomach as she pulls up the slip of paper. Maybe life is happening in slow motion or maybe I just want it to.

"Eli York," she calls, "you are District 5's male tribute. Will you please join Lickta up here?"

That's my name. And I can't hold in the tears that start streaming down my face. I numbly walk to the aisle in the middle. I stumble over the uneven ground and end up falling on my knees. Getting back up, I feel even more tears streaming down my face. I can't stop them and what's the point.

The Escort offers me a hand to help me up on stage, and I take it because there's no way I could get up the steps on my own. She asks if I am Eli York, and I just nod and look down at my feet. I don't look into the audience because I bet instead of seeing my family, I will just see Chad's smirking face taunting me about throwing garbage at my grave.

"Here are your tributes-" starts the Escort, only to be cut off by some girl in the Center. It pulls me temporarily out of my state to look up.

"Wait," she shouts, walking into the aisle. She's short and has the long dark hair but her skin is definitely an olive tone that suggests no relation to the little girl who was Reaped. "I volunteer," she informs everyone.

There's a very plausible silences that descends, but soon the little Reaped girl runs off the stage and the Peacekeepers turn to Escort whoever the crazy girl is to join me.

* * *

><p><strong>Eboni Mullins - District 5 Female<strong>

* * *

><p>I'm excepting the Escort's hand to help me up onto the stage, but I'm not quite sure what I'm doing. The little girl, Lickta, runs down past me in her hurry to get off the stage and only spares a quick glance at me.<p>

She's so young and sweet and so clean I couldn't bare to see her standing up on the stage. All the life she has yet to experience would be destroyed. My life should be destroyed.

"Wow, this is so exciting," says the Escort. "I think District 5 has their first female volunteer ever. You must be quite the young lady," she tells me. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Eboni Mullins," I tell her, feeling like her praise was digging into my skin and destroying me because they were all lies.

"Was that your cousin then," she asks, probably fishing for a good story or something. Too bad I'm not a good story.

"No," I tell her, "I volunteered just for myself," I tell her.

And the Escort applauds, probably thinking how people in the Capital are going crazy over this right now. "Fascinating," she announces, "our tributes for District 5, Eli York and the volunteer, Eboni Mullins!"

She backs away so I'm standing next to this Eli York and motions us to shake hands. When he reaches out to grab mine, and his is so sweaty. I look up and his eyes are a piercing blue though they're red from crying as well. But the sweat and the blue forces some vomit off my throat and it takes all I have to force it back down.

Quickly, I pull my hand from his and allow the Escort to take us into the Justice building. As soon as the door closes behind us, I move to tap the Escort, who's walking in front of us, on the shoulder. She whirls around surprised. "Yes, darling," she asks.

"Could I have a cup of water, please?" I ask because there's an awful taste in my mouth. This is what everything should taste like to me because of what I did, but I can't stand it anymore.

"Of course," she says, smiling at me, "I'll have someone bring it to your room."

The Farewells, I forgot completely about them. I can't do that. I can't tell my family that despite everything they did, I'm still too dirty. That my flithiness should not exist if some pure little girl is going to die.

"Is there anyway to get rid of the Farewells?" I ask her. "What if I have already said my goodbyes?" The boy looks at me strangely but the Escort just smiles again.

"If you've already told your family everything you've wanted to, I guess I could take you to the train early," she tells me, rubbing her face in thought. "Hydren and Sirus could take Eli back after he's down." She turns to the Peacekeepers trailing us, "you heard what I was saying, right?" After they nod, she continues. "Make sure my two boys understand and don't leave poor Eli behind. I'll be taking my car now, thank you."

Eli is led a separate way, and I'm led to the back where several cars are parked. They look like the buses that occasionally run around the city but smaller and more… more personalized.

The Escort leads me to a sleek looking black one and tells me to "hop in." I don't know exactly what that means but I grab the latch on the door and pull in open. I'm about to sit down when I notice the seats are white.

"Aren't I too dirty?" I ask her. "I might ruin your seats." I will ruin your seats.

"Nonsense," she tells me, "You look perfectly clean and anyway, I'll be having the entire car cleaned after it's in the train storage anyway."

I shrug and sit down, not telling her this is dirt that isn't going to clean out.

She starts the car and the loud noise startles me but soon it dies down to something that I can ignore. There's silence as she pulls away but as soon it looks like she's comfortable, she starts talking.

"Eboni," she says, "I can call you Eboni, right?" I give a little nod and she keeps going. "You can call me Celia if you want. There's a bottle of water in the middle console. But I was wondering, you said you volunteered for yourself but I'm sensing it's something more than that. I'm here to help you. I hope you know that," she tell me.

I don't know what to say, so I just let her trail off. A silence descends but almost as soon as it sets, I can't stand it. I grab the bottle and take a sip, but it doesn't help me feel any better.

"I'm pregnant," I tell her, probably the first person who wasn't my family or Derik.

"Your boyfriend-" she starts, obviously intending to understand how he could possibly be okay with this.

"Not his," I say.

The Escort can't help but turn around and stare at me, but then her gaze softens to something of understanding. She opens a strange compartment next to the week and pulls out what must be a wallet. She flips to a picture of her and a small boy outside a building that I couldn't possible identify.

"My son," she tells me. "I have no husband or boyfriend, but all the same, he is mine. I hated him but he is so precious I would do anything for him now. You've got something to prove, right?" she asks me.

I don't answer. I don't have anything to prove, I just want to die.

She takes me silence as an answer of it's own. "Eboni, your child is yours, not the father's. You didn't deserve it, and it wasn't your fault. You were just in the wrong place and the wrong time. You've got to fight what you're feeling because it will get better. Trust me like no one else, I know."

"His eye," I tell her, willing her to understand that I could see them when I closed mine, always looming over me, always waiting.

"His were a startling emerald green with brown specks that reminded me of a snake," she tells me. "But now those eyes belong to little Cornelius, and I couldn't love them more."

"But-" I start.

"I'm not trying to change your mind, but I'm trying to tell you their is a light. You've gotten yourself into quite a predicament but I can spin a lovely story about a poor girl fighting to give her child a better life. Will sucker in people to support you," she says, slowing down as we pull up to the train. "You're choice is your own and don't let people take that away from you."

I nod at her, just feeling more conflicted and confused than I have since I first found out. I mean, I'm filthy but could I live with that? Could other people live with that? Maybe.

* * *

><p><strong>Eli York - District 5 Male<strong>

* * *

><p>After the Escort took Eboni away, the Peacekeepers open a nondescript door and motion me inside. The room looks so bare and unlived in, it make me sad. I want my warm and cozy home that I will probably never see again.<p>

As soon as I settle down, all six of my family members pile in the room. My mother instantly sweeps me into a hug with both Nana and Grandma close behind. "Oh baby," says my mother, hiding her face in my shoulder like she could hide from the truth.

"I can't believe it," says my Grandpa, just standing off to the side. "After everything I sacrificed, this is how I'm repaid."

"Grandpa," I say to him, "there's nothing you could've done. You've already done so much for me."

He rubs his eyes and pulls me away from my mother into a hug of his own. "I'm proud of you, boy," he tells me. "You probably can't tell it but I really am. You're so smart and clever with those words of yours."

"Charm everyone," shouts my Grandma, joining my Grandpa in the hug. "Use your words and make them want to save you."

"Yeah son," says my father, "you're smart so make sure to use it. You can come back home, I know it. I know it."

My gift with words doesn't work that way, but I just nod and promise them I will do everything I can. Soon all six surround me in a hug and all I can do is cry about the unfairness of it all.

When the Peacekeepers come to remove them, they have to pry them away because I won't let go. My last sight of them is so blurry with my tears that I could barely see them.

As I collapse on the couch and bury my head into my hands, the door opens and a figure emerges. My vision is still blurred, but it can only be Leslie. I wave her towards me, and she wraps her arms around me and lets me cry into her shoulder.

Eventually, I can get myself together enough to look at her. She kisses my forehead softly and pulls out her notebook. She presses it into my lap. "I want you to have it," she tell me, "so you can remember home and beauty even when all seems lost."

"Leslie," I say like it's the most important word ever spoken. "I-"

She presses a finger gently to my lips. "You don't need to say anything. I know what you want to say, and it doesn't need speaking."

"Then have this," I tell her, pulling my own notebook out of my pocket and pressing it into her hands. "So when I'm gone, I'll never truly be gone."

And then I see tears pour from her eyes and we cry together. When the Peacekeepers come again, we're just holding each other on the couch.

She gives me a lingering kiss on my lips before she leaves. "Allons-y, right?" she whispers to me. "You have an adventure to win and another one waiting for you her."

I kiss her again, and when she's gone from the room, I start laughing until I cry.

* * *

><p><strong>As you've seen in the past, I've changed some elements to better fit what I think their role should be. <strong>

**Hopefully some of my readers are still with me. Hopefully I've even picked up some new readers too. Either way, I could really use some reviews with how you think tributes are fleshing out.**

**Review!**


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